Reality TV: The Next Big Thing (repost of an old Virtue story)

[ShepherdBest]

((This is a reposting of the story of how a Virtue server Supervillain, Snowcrab, AKA Roger Wills, won his suit of armor in a reality TV show.  It is a closed story obviously, but I would love to hear any feedback, positive or negative that you may have.  The whole story will be 10-11 posts/chapters.))

 

            Roger Wills stood shoulder to shoulder in a gymnasium full of angry, burly men and women.  He’d read the advert in a Soldier of Fortune magazine he’d taken off of some dumbass who tried to get between him and his target a few weeks back.  A casting call by Arachnos for a reality TV show proving who was the baddest, nastiest cuss in the Isles.  “This could be amusing,” he’d thought at the time.  Now, seeing the room full of geeks and wanna-bes he knew this was probably going to be a complete waste of his time.  But he figured, “What the hell.  I’m already here…”

 

            A truly ugly git named something like Mako, the shark faced boy, or some-such nonsense seemed to be in charge and stood on a balcony overlooking the gym.  But instead it was the pretty bit of fluff next to him that addressed those gathered below.  Normally he didn’t go for the goth types, but the pale skin with the white hair really looked good.  Course the spider legs wrapping around her chest didn’t hurt either.  She looked down and said in a clear, controlled voice, “Thank you all for coming.  I am sorry to inform you that there are only three spots left on the show and I just can’t be bothered going through any more interviews.  So, I think we’ll just let you work it out amongst yourselves…”

 

            He was moving before she even finished the sentence and the neck of the bozo in front of him snapped like a twig.  He slammed an elbow back into the nose of the guy to his right and grabbed the pony-tail of the girl to his left, yanking her head back before crushing his fist into her face.  He laughed as the others closest to him tried to back away, “Losers!  What the hell are ya here for if it wasn’t ta git yer hands bloody?”  He noticed five other pockets of violence already in progress and was glad to see there were at least a few professionals in the crowd.

 

            A steroid-ridden, Mr. Atlas, type bellowed some kind of nonsense before charging in and received a swift kick to the groin for his troubles.  The general populace in the room had finally figured out what was going on now and the room turned into chaos.  Most of the tossers were content to leap on ones already injured or stunned by stronger opponents, only to fall to similar tactics themselves.  The room was quickly falling into two groups; players who were talented enough to handle themselves, and mooks who were getting cut down like wheat.

 

            The crowd was starting to thin considerably when he heard the first gunshot.  “Some sneaky cuss managed to sneak in a piece, eh?” Wills thought.  “Well, this is finally getting exciting!”  He found himself in an empty space for the moment and tried to decide which way to head.  Looking around the room, he saw a perky red-head cheerleader type standing not too far away grinning like mad.  “Not that way!” He muttered knowing how nasty perky girls could be!  The gunshot seemed to come from the left, so he was heading right.  A lot of idiots seemed to be heading towards the gun, probably hoping to get it for themselves.  But Wills knew, anyone good enough to get a gun past Arachnos security wasn’t going to just hand it over.

 

            There seemed to be two players straight ahead.  One, a martial arts type was busy smacking the snot out of a half dozen goons, and an almost nerdy little guy who was shouting orders to a bunch of mooks and giving them rah-rah speeches about sticking together till the end.  Wills hung back, watching as the nerd’s boys charged the martial artist.  Wills charged in while they were busy and took out the most dangerous one in the room, the geek.  Wills figured anyone who could get a bunch of psychos like this to work together needed to go down fast.

 

            “Oi!  Nerd-boy!”  He yelled tackling the guy to the ground.  He had to elbow one of the mooks who tried to pull him off, but other than that he was uninterrupted as he smashed the guy’s face into the wood floor until he stopped kicking.  Reaching down, he unbuckled his latest victim’s leather belt and pulled it free.  Looking over, kung-fu boy seemed to have dropped the last of the grunts, but apparently one of them got a good shot in.  The guy was limping something fierce.

 

            Wills moved in, swinging the belt and caught a powerful kick to the ribs for his pains.  He grunted as he felt two ribs give and backed off a bit.  “Playin’ possum, eh.  Pretty sneaky…”  Wills grinned and swung the belt overhead, snaping it towards the guys face and grinned to see the buckle bring a line of blood from the martial artist’s face.  With a snarl the martial artist moved in and Wills turtled as a blur of fists sailed towards his head.  Most hit his arms and shoulders, but enough were getting through.  Wills felt a foot connect with his knee and went down hard.  He knew the finishing blow was only a moment away and tried to move, but instead heard a loud gunshot and felt a rain of hot blood wash down on him as the martial artist toppled over, minus half his face.

 

            The perky cheerleader stood there holding a friggin’ hand cannon of a pistol and giggling as she pointed it at Wills.  “Look what I found.” She said smiling at him.  She thumbed back the hammer but stopped as Ghost Widow’s voice called out, “Halt.  It seems we have our final three contestants.”

 

            Wills stood up gingerly and looked around.  All he saw was the pixie next to him and himself.  She was doing the same.  “What gives?” He said.  “I only see two of us.”

 

            “You just need to look up more,” said a voice from almost directly over his head.  Looking up, Wills saw a thin man perched on the basketball hoop.  Given the fact that there was no blood on him anywhere, Wills assumed the tosser had jumped up there at the first sign of a fight and stayed hidden till it was over.

 

            As the thin man jumped down Ghost Widow welcomed them to the game show.  “Now that you passed the audition, we’ll need to get you into wardrobe and let you meet your competition.  I must say this looks to me a most exciting series!”

 

            The cheerleader grinned up at him, “We’re going to be on TV!  This is gonna be awesome!”

 

            The thin man, just looked around at the groaning pile of bodies in the room and all the ones that weren’t even moving and frowned, “But if this is the audition, what’s the show going to be like?”

[ShepherdBest]

Costuming.

 

Costuming had been a nightmare.  First two girls and a guy with tape measures had descended upon them measuring everything God had given them, and rattling off the numbers for all to hear.  Gathered there were the thirty final contestants for the reality TV show, and most of them were not what you would call “polite”.  After the measuring and the ribbing taken from the others, Wills found himself in a very small room with three marketing execs where he filled out forms in indecipherable legalese and answered questions about who he thought he was as a person, where had he trained, what were his signature moves, and what his social life was like.  Then he was taken to another room where he stood in his underwear while red-faced designers screamed at each other about how to dress him and in what colors while alternately stabbing him with pins and shouting at him to hold still.  Only to be handed a stack of clothes at the end of the day that looked like the same stuff he could have bought at any Target or the Gap.  Excepting that it all fit him perfectly and made him look really good…so a nightmare with a happy ending.

 

Following costuming, there was orientation where they explained the need for drama as well as action, and that if the contestants didn’t provide any, the producers would provide it for the viewers by bringing in any family members the contestants had left and lobotomizing them off camera while the contestants watched.  Wills shrugged at that, he’d heard Fox did the same thing with their shows.  The cameras were explained and the microphones, and how to use the private confession cams, set up so cast members could tell the world what they really think of each other.

 

Following that was a meeting on the rules.  It was a very short meeting.  The rules were as follows…

 

Each “week” there would be a challenge.  “Week” really just meant the random time between events, they could happen one day apart, or several days depending on things like weather and setup.

 

Contestants would compete in the challenge and one or more would be eliminated.  The rules for each challenge would change but they were pretty much anything goes.  If anyone refused a challenge, they would be eliminated from the game and branded a coward, but would otherwise be free to go.

 

There would be NO violence of any kind between challenges.

 

After the rules, they were given a little orientation “punch & cookies” kind of thing to get to know one another, as if each of them hadn’t been sizing one another up from second one.

 

Wills saw the usual assortment he would have expected for this kind of event; a couple skulls and hellions glaring at each other from across the room, three Tsoo with their bright tattoos, a guy in a cowboy hat that just had to be a Malta, two of the Lost judging by the smell, etcetera, etcetera.  A kid in uniform and spit polished boots tried to shoulder bump Wills out of his way and the older mercenary just laughed.  The youth turned back and glared saying in a thick german accent, “Vhat is so funny?”

 

“Aw, sorry, Junior.  Just trying to decide between eliminating you first, or dragging you through this whole show just to make you my bitch.”  For a second Wills thought the kid was going to go for him, but his two companions grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away.  Which was when the four ladies in the corsets glided up to him.  Behind them was a giant of a man who kept looking from side to side as if expecting an attack.  The women had the bright make-up of Carnies and one slid right up to him, pressing against him and running her fingers over his chest.  “Is it wise to make enemies of a faction so soon my dear?  Ally yourself with us and perhaps we could…”

 

Her words were cut off by her companions protests as someone began beating them out of their way with a rolled up newspaper.  The perky cheerleader from his qualifying round smacked her way between the women, even giving the big guy a rap on the nose when he started to move towards her.  She sauntered up to Wills and with one manicured hand stuffed the newspaper into the cleavage of the carnie hanging on him and purred “Hiya Roger!  Miss me?”

[ShepherdBest]

 

“Kitty Marcone…Kitty Freaking Marcone?!!”

 

What can I say.  I was so amazed at who perky cheerleader girl was that I forgot to swear.  Sue me.

 

“We found out three weeks ago.  Suck it up and move on.” Randal Vance (Thin Guy) moved alongside me in the forest on some island in the middle of no where.  We were both wearing the stylish fatigues that the studio had given us; colored to look like fatigues, but bright enough to ensure they would be no help at hiding and let the cameras find us easily.  Each of us was also wearing a camera mounted on her head and was carrying a paint ball gun.

 

The rules for this event were pretty straight forward.  Four teams of eight.  Move from your own base to the assigned enemy base.  Avoid being hit by the paintballs and anything else an opponent might use.  Anyone unable to make it to the target base would be eliminated.  That was the wording that got me.

 

The groups had formed immediately.  They let us choose our own teams for this one.  And the factions all formed up pretty darn quick.  The Carnies had picked up an extra guy and the two Lost had joined up with them.  Kitty’s crew had approached me and Vance to join up, but I said “no thanks.”I wasn’t gonna be anyone’s lackey, even if she was cute.  So, Kitty had picked up the two Hellions.  The Council and the Tsoo had teamed with the Malta operative and a random extra, a battle scared chick who seemed good with knives.  I had looked around and realized that most of the independents had formed up behind me and Vance.  Seems they liked someone who had already pissed off the council, the carnies and said no to the Family.  Unfortunately, it also meant we got stuck with the two Skulls.

 

We moved through the forest, and some guy named Hamish had volunteered for point.  Guy was supposed to be an Irish terrorist of some kind.  Least that’s what the PR people were billing him as.  Made me not trust him.  The IRA was the biggest group of incompetents I’d ever seen.  How many times could you mess up a car bomb?  It just wasn’t that hard, and yet…

 

One of the Skulls broke me out of my thinkin’.  “This is such a waste of time!  Who cares if we get shot with a paint gun?  I thought this was gonna be some real shit!”  The idiot was standing straight up and holding the gun loosely at his side.  Without a second thought, I shot him in the face.  The others watched as the acid in the pellet ate into his face and he dropped to the ground writhing in pain.

 

I looked at the others.  “Anyone else think this is a joke?  No?  Good.  Moving on…”  The idiot had stopped kicking at this point and lay still, a bit of smoke wafting up from where his face used to be.  I made sure the barrel of my gun was pointed vaguely in the direction of the other Skull who apparently didn’t get “Vague”.  He began yelling something and raised his gun, only to be cut down by half the team.  I noted the half that didn’t fire.

 

As began moving out, Vance move over to me and whispered, “He’s been bitching all morning.  Why’d you wait till now?” 

 

I grinned at him and pointed to the camera I’d noticed mounted in a tree.  “Had to wait and give the viewers a show!”

 

[ShepherdBest]

 

The paintball challenge had been both a disappointment and a boon to the producers of “The Next Big Thing”.  On the one hand, each of the teams blundered around in the forest without ever once encountering each other, and each team made it to their assigned bases with little incident.  Only two things happened during the walk through the forest, but those two things made for great TV.  The first was Wills shooting the Skull in the, well, skull, and the other was even more dramatic.  The Malta operative had waited until his team was fifty feet from their safe zone and then calmly wiped out all three Tsoo and two of the council members.  The other two had wisely run for the safe zone.  The leader of the swastika pack made it free and clear, but the other took a paintball to the leg.  He was ruled safe, but had to leave the competition due to the damage to the leg.

 

So just like that, the contestant field had dropped from 28 to 20.  Today’s challenge was a take off on the old chain-gang, prison break movies.  Every contestant was to be paired with another, and they needed to escape from the arachnos agents armed with shotguns and bloodhounds.  As they waited for the names of the partners to be drawn, Hamish and Randall walked up to Wills.  They were both smirking and chuckling.  Wills gave them a look, “What?”  The master of ceremonies began calling out the names of the contestants as they were drawn from a bag.  Wills watched, thinking the man lacked style.

 

“Oh, nuttin’,” Hamish laughed.  “We jus’ saw that bit o’ fluff Kitty slippin’ a few quid ta one o’ da guards is all.”  Wills pondered that for a moment as his two companions laughed at him. 

 

The Announcer called the name Kitty Marcone and Wills groaned, “Oh she didn’t…” just as the Announcer called his name.  He hung his head as half the contestants burst into peals of laughter.  Almost everyone there knew of the way she had been stalking him.  Half were amused, the other half were jealous as hell.  He walked up onto the platform to join the madly grinning Kitty.  She was decked out in full black leather that hugged every curve, though he noted with approval that her boots were flat soled and suitable for running.  He had decided to dress for the part, and was in denim shirt over white t-shirt and blue jeans.  As he stepped up, a short chain was cuffed to his ankle and hers.

 

The other contestants were paired up and Hamish lost his grin as he was joined with the Malta op.  Randall ended up with one of the Lost.  The event was to start and all contestants were lined up.  They would have a ten minute head start and then the dogs would be let loose.  The “convicts” had to try and escape to the safe house 20 miles away without being caught.

 

Wills looked down the row at the line of contestants and saw the council moron arguing with his partner, one of the Carnie chicks.  He grinned at Kitty, “How’d you like to buy ourselves a few extra minutes?”

 

At the starting gun, Wills and Kitty held back a beat and then followed their targets into the swampy forest.  Most people scattered, going off in their own direction, but no matter the twists and turns, Wills and Kitty stuck with the carnie and the last council member.  Finally the two stopped and waited in a clearing for Wills and Kitty to catch up with them.  The idiot kid started yelling first, “What the hell are you two doing?  We aren’t going to outrun the dogs if we fight, so piss off and go your own way you psychotic…” He never finished as Wills strode up and slugged the carnie chick full in the face.  She dropped like a rock, where Kitty drew back and kicked her hard in the head.  The council guy dropped into a fighting stance and backed up a step waiting for the two to come at him, but they just backed up a few steps.  “What gives?”

 

Wills smiled at him and looked down at the unconscious Carnie.  “Have fun running from the dogs, mate!”

 

“Yeah,” Kitty grinned, “We don’t have to outrun the dogs…”

 

“We Just Have to Outrun YOU!” They laughed in unison as they scampered off into the woods.  A few minutes later the baying of dogs, his scream, and the report of a shotgun blast echoed through the woods.

 

“They are getting close.  Maybe stopping to take out dipshit wasn’t such a great idea.”  Kitty groused as the hounds barking began to get closer.

 

Wills looked around and found the location of the nearest camera and moved toward it.  “Oh, I knew we weren’t going to outrun them.  Lets make our stand here.”

 

“WHAT?  You knew?  What do ya mean you knew?”

 

“Oh, I always figured we’d need to fight our way out if we stopped to hunt down those two.  But think of what our last stand will do for the ratings!”

 

Kitty looked at him and grinned.  “You are nuts!  I love it…” She grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him into a kiss.  He resisted, only slightly, turning so that their profile would be visible for the camera as they kissed and the hounds came near.

 

[ShepherdBest]

They broke the kiss as the first of the hounds hit them.  Wills kept his feet, punching the dog to the side of the head and sending it falling past him, but Kitty wasn’t so lucky, she went down under the weight of a hound who she managed to grab by the scruff of the neck and one ear.  Holding the head at arms length, she managed to keep the dog’s teeth away from her throat, but the claws dug into her leather outfit leaving scratches and tears.  Wills wound up and punted the dog full in the stomach, knocking it off of Kitty.  As he helped Kitty to her feet, the hound he had punched landed on Will’s back, threatening to bring him down.  Wills heard Kitty’s warning shout, even as he heard the clack of a shotgun.  Reaching back he grabbed the hound trying to bite his head and flipped it over towards the gunman emerging from the bushes.  The gunman sidestepped and batted the hound past him with the shotgun, and by the time he brought it back in line with the “Convicts”, Kitty and Wills were already on top of him.  A few moments, and two shotgun blasts later, the guard was unconscious and the hounds were dead.

 

Wills looked up from where he was lying under a dead hound at the ripped leather-clad Valkyrie standing over him with the smoking shotgun and grinned, tilting his head to the side to remove the sun from view of his head camera.  Shoving the dog off of him, he crawled over to the guard and pulled spare shells from the man’s pockets.  “No keys, unfortunately, but now at least we’re armed!  Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let me carry the shotgun?”

 

“Mmmmm, no!” Kitty laughed.  “Let me ask you a question, Roger.” She tossed her hair and grinned down at him, “You said you’d planned this.  What would we have done if there had been more than one gunman and two dogs?”

 

He shrugged, “Died, probably.”  Wills tried wiping the blood off of his hands, though his shirt was already pretty well splattered.  “But the way I look at things now, any others in the area would have come when this guy nailed Junior back there.  No, I’m guessing the others went in different directions, or at least have moved past us by now.  I’m thinking we’re in the clear for a bit.”

 

“Really?” Kitty purred as she moved up against him, somehow managing to put three long syllables into the word.  She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a deep kiss, giggling when he pulled back after she bit his lip.  “So we might have a moment…ahhh!”  She gasped as Wills’ fingers dug into the tears in her outfit and pulled, ripping her top apart.  She released his hair and tried to cover herself while not losing her grip on the shotgun.  “Roger, not here…the cameras!”

 

Wills slid his hands deliciously down her body and kneeled as he began working on the tears in her pants.  “Aww, c’mon gorgeous, lets give the folks at home a little, Must See TV!”  There was the tearing of leather, and neither one of them thought much about talking anymore…

[ShepherdBest]

 

Six had been eliminated in the Prison break episode.  Most had been uneventful and expected, except for the Lost member who had been paired with Randall Vance.  The thin man had gained a lot of respect when he came walking up to the finish line with a foot and the stump of a leg dragging on the chain on his ankle.  No one knew what he’d done to the Lost he was paired with, and no camera had caught the event.  Two more contestants had gone home in the James Bond Skiing event where they were chased down the slope by men with machine guns.  The death toll should have been higher on this one, but the producers had obviously never tried firing a high powered handgun while on skis.  The gunmen all fell over; their bullets sailing harmlessly into the sky, and the contestants laughed their way to the bottom of the slope.  Still, one of the Hellions had managed to take the Malta Op’s ski pole to the eye on the way down, and one of the loners had fallen/been tripped and broke his arm, removing him from the show.

 

There were only 12 contestants left at this point.  The big Carnie guy and two of the women, Kitty and two of her mob goons, the Malta Op, a Hellion, Roger, Hamish, Randall, and a woman named Vanessa, who had worked on some black ops unit or other.  With the exception of the Malta, whose name was Arthur; though nobody called him that, teamwork had been what got the contestants through to this point.  Vanessa had been quick to hook up with Hamish realizing that the lone ducks were getting picked off first, and there was a betting pool going to see who was going to bump off the Hellion.

 

The next event thinned the number to eight.  They had been told to split themselves into three teams of four and the Carnies almost ran to claim the Hellion.  Hamish, Randall, and Vanessa had, expectedly, formed up behind Roger, and he waved at Kitty and grinned as the Malta shrugged and walked over to join the Family members.  Kitty had been much colder towards Roger since their sexcapades in front of the cameras.  Apparently he wasn’t real popular with the Family these days and needed to watch that when the show ended.  It didn’t keep her from sneaking to his room some nights, but she had lost some of her chirpy attitude, and she usually started the night’s antics by slapping him in the face.

 

The Announcer came on, and with what Roger considered a decided lack of flair, told them of their next mission.  “This mission should be considered a scavenger hunt boys and girls.  And we’ll be flying to sunny ParagonCity to acquire the one item you need.  You will have two weeks to plan how you will acquire the item and to implement your plan.  Not every member needs to be involved, however, part of this event is how well you work as a team, so…” and this was directed right at the Malta, “there will be no eliminating your teammates.  This mission will also be difficult enough without worrying about the competition, so there will be no attempts to sabotage the other teams.  Any questions?”  The Announcer smiled waiting for the obvious question, and the big carnie complied.

 

“Yeah, what are we supposed to get?”

 

A picture of the star spangled hero flashed up on the screen as the Announcer said with a flourish, “The item you need to acquire is the cape of the hero known as Statesman!”

 

Dead silence filled the room and several jaws hung open.  Kitty looked across the room at Roger and smirked, and he grinned back.  Turning to his team he said, “Piece of cake!  Let’s go.”

 

[ShepherdBest]

They had been sitting in the hotel room for a week so far, hitting the night clubs and the bars.  Each night one or more of them would ask some questions, some money would change hands, and names would be spoken.  The four of them had worked their way up the feeding chain of informants and snitches, and the day before had found the information they needed.  Now they were just waiting for what Roger called the best dramatic moment.  The camera crew following them had been discrete so far, but now they were unpacking the big mother cameras and subtlety was going out the window.

 

On the television, a picture of Statesman appeared and Randall yelled for them all to shut up as he turned up the volume.

 

“…long time friend of Paragon’s first hero the Statesman was rescued today by Statesman himself.  The perpetrators refused to say why they had undertaken the kidnapping and are being held for further questioning…” The screen showed the two Carnie girls being led from a warehouse near the port.

 

Roger squinted, “There!” he yelled stabbing a finger at the screen where a grunt in the family organization was slipping a few bills to a reporter.  “What do you want to bet Kitty tipped them off?”

 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to interfere..” Vanessa began but was cut off as Randall shushed then again.

 

“In related news, Statesman, in conjunction with the Make a Wish foundation, donated one of his capes to a brave child of the name…” As the pictures flowed, there in the back, pushing the child’s wheelchair, was Kitty Marcone.  Randall turned off the TV.

 

The room was quiet for a bit, then Roger looked at his team.  “Okay, one down and one passed.  Looks like it is all up to us.  We hit it tomorrow, 9 AM.  Everyone get some sleep.”

 

 

 

Mickey Chen stood slouched behind the counter of his shop, sipping bad coffee and watching his little black and white TV.  Looked to be another slow day, but that was okay.  In a city like Paragon, you learned to embrace the slow days.  His reverie was broken by the squealing of tires outside and the sound of running feet.

 

The door slammed open and bright lights flooded the room as Wills entered the building at speed.  He wore an expensively tailored suit and tie, and his hair was as perfect as his teeth.  The lights followed him into the room as Vance and Hamish entered right behind him, one carrying the obnoxiously large television camera and the other carrying the bright spot lights.  In a smooth move, Roger hopped onto the counter, sliding across on his butt and landing on the other side with his arm around Mickey.  Roger grinned like a maniac and held up a microphone.  “Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today in scenic SteelCanyon at the shop of the one and only, Mickey Chen!  Mickey, how long have you been in business here?”

 

“Um…thirteen years…?”

 

Rogers attention snapped from Mickey to the camera.  “Thirteen years, ladies and gentlemen!  Thirteen years of cleaning up the spills and stains of our cities greatest protectors.  Thirteen years of mending tears and bullet holes and acid burns to keep our fair city’s heroes looking good and standing tall!”  His attention rocketed back to the confused man and Roger leaned in close.  “Mickey, you know who I am, don’t you?” he asked in a tone as if the answer was obvious.

 

“Um…”

 

“That’s right I’m Nick Prescott host of that wacky show HERO HOAX!  Where we play practical jokes on Paragon’s favorite heroes.  Now, as my producers found out from you, here at Chen’s Cleaners, you wash the tights and costumes for hundreds of heroes, but none as great as the big man himself…Statesman!”  Roger spun the hapless cleaner around as Vance and Hamish circled them with the camera.  Vanessa entered in a skimpy sequined dress, carrying a garment on a hanger.  Roger’s voice dropped to an expectant hush.  “Now, folks, today, we are going to replace the cape Statesman normally wears with this pink feathered cape…”

 

Vanessa pressed the button on the cleaning rack until Statesman’s signature outfit rotated to the front where she began making the switch.  His voice never faltering, Roger continued his patter. “Our crews came in last night and placed cameras behind each of the mirrors.  We also have cameras on the street outside so we will be sure to capture every hilarious moment!  Let’s watch!  ....and cut!”

 

As the lights died and the other three bundled out with the camera and the cape, Roger talked to Mickey in a subdued, bored voice.  “Right, thanks for playing along.  Our cameras will pick up everything.  Just relax, be yourself and try not to laugh.  We’ll break in when we think the joke is done and we’ll all laugh and shake hands.”  As the others were in the van, Roger began to walk out the door.  “We’re gonna get some shots of the sign out front…great publicity for your store…”

 

As the Van drove off, Roger grinned at the others, “See?  Piece of cake!”

 

[ShepherdBest]

“Completely Unacceptable!”

 

The eight remaining contestants stood in a loose group as the show’s producer paced back and forth railing at them.  Randall and Roger exchanged glances and Roger snorted.  He looked over his shoulder at the show’s announcer, who stood in the back, hiding, Roger thought, behind the contestants.

 

“We wanted action!  We wanted conflict!  And what did we get?  What!  Did!  We!  Get!”

 

“Two capes.” Kitty sneered.

 

He producer turned and pointed a chubby finger at her.  “Don’t you sass me girl!” And Randall looked at Roger and mouthed, “Sass?” The producer roared at them.  “You losers give me instead, a charity event and a group sitting in a hotel room eating takeout for a week!  I had Ghost Widow call me today and tell me to pick up the pace of the show, Or Else!   So the last thing I need is some two bit, skanky wop telling me…”

 

The producers words were abruptly cut off by the noise of his snapping neck and the thud of his body hitting the floor.  Roger dusted his hands off dramatically.  “Ladies and gentlemen, I think it is time for the show to have some new management.”  He began walking towards the announcer, and the other contestants moved out of his way to clear a path.  “Thanks for the help here, buddy.  Glad you stood up for the talent.  Nice job.”

 

“You…you killed him!  Do you know what they are going to do to you?”  He was pale and glancing from side to side.  He saw no friends in the room.

 

“Do to me?”  He laughed and grinned.  “I am on a show where there is a 50/50 chance I am going to die in the next episode.  What Exactly, do you think I am afraid of here?”  He shoved the man against the wall.  “Now, what is the next event?”

 

“Wh-what?”

 

“The next event!  What is it?”

 

“W-well…I…um, o-okay.  The next event is a two man event.  You are in pairs and it has a gladiator theme.  Leather armor and you choose weapons and accessories, and…and you fight…and…and that’s it.”

 

“So we go till one person is standing?  Seems like a lame finish to the show.”  There were murmurs of agreement around the room.

 

“Well, actually they were just going to run the cameras straight through and whomever was left at the end of the show would move on to the next event.”

 

“And what IS the next event?”

 

“Well, the final episode…is just Russian roulette.  One bullet for each survivor of the last event…and they go until there is one left standing.”

 

Dead silence greeted this pronouncement.  “That sucks baby rhinos!  What kinda half baked no talent hack would plan that no climax ending?”

 

The Announcer pointed a shaky finger a the body slumped on the floor.

 

“Well we just need to spice things up a bit then, don’t we?”  He grinned madly at the others in the room.  “”Okay, boys and girls!  Time to show this town how to put on a show!”

[ShepherdBest]

 

The last two episodes of the Next Big Thing amazed viewers and critics alike.  The first episode was four, no holds barred, street rules, wrestling matches.  Viewers cringed when Hamish had his collarbone shattered by the Malta with a folding chair, and cheered when Kitty tore Vanessa’s top as Kitty head-butted her over the top rope and into the surrounding mud pit.  They were awed watching Randall Vance slowly, methodically take apart the massive family goon he was paired against.  Vance hit nerve clusters and by the end of the match the man was practically begging to be pinned.  The last event, of course, was Roger’s and the final Family button man. 

 

It looked grim.  The man was beating Roger bloody.  One eye was swollen shut and the last blow had sent a tooth flying.  The Button man beat on Roger’s back with a chair until the chair broke and finally dragged him by the leg around the ring in a victory lap before dumping his semi-conscious body in the center of the ring.  But as he approached for the pin, Roger snapped his foot out kicking the man in the balls.  Kitty slid a tire iron in to the Button man as he staggered away from Roger who was trying to get to his hands and knees.  As the Button Man lined up a swing, Roger rolled out of the way and the tire iron tore into the mat.  Roger swung his foot around again and connected solidly with the side of his bent-over assailant’s head.  The Button Man fell and rolled, and Roger was up and pulling the tire iron from the mat.  The next two minutes was Roger spiting blood as he hammered the poor guy with the tire iron.

 

In the final minutes of the episode, viewers saw Vance holding Roger back as he screamed at Kitty for her actions during his match.  Kitty ended the episode by sauntering her mud splattered form over to the Malta Op and kissing him deeply before smiling wickedly back at Roger.

 

But that was nothing compared to the final episode.

 

Since they had the gladiator set and the weapons already, they decided to use it for the final episode.  The announcer whipped the live crowd into a fury as the four contestants entered the ring.  Randal Vance held the triton and net, Roger had a buckler and short sword.  The Malta held two swords, and Kitty slinked into the arena wearing spiked gloves, thigh high boots, and not much else.  All four contestants were well oiled and glistened in the lights as they circled.

 

Blades flashed as the Malta charged Roger, and backed him quickly into a wall, completely on the defensive.  Vance and Kitty circled warily until in a surprise move, Vance threw his triton into the Malta’s thigh.  As Kitty rushed forward she sliced open Vance’s cheek and side with her two gloves, only to find herself entangled in the net.

 

The Malta staggered forward and fell as Roger’s sword took his head from his shoulders.  The crowd went insane as blood spouted from the body as he went down.  Roger walked over to where Randall had pinned the struggling Kitty in his net.  Kitty was on her back, her spiked gloves crossed in front of her and the net pressing into her skin.  Roger slid to his knees next to her as she looked at him proudly, defiantly.  Vance was yelling for Roger to kill her, to finish this nonsense, but Roger just stared into her eyes.

 

The television audience watched breathless as Roger reached out with his left hand, cradling her head.  Vance’s voice went from yelling to screaming, to gurgled gasp as Roger, without looking, slid his sword into Randall’s stomach, the blade exiting his back.  Blood spilled from his mouth as he slowly fell to the side, the question at the betrayal reflected in his eyes.

 

Roger let go of the sword and held Kitty, kissing her deeply as the Announcer stepped into the arena.  In a hushed voice, he reminded Roger, from a safe distance, that it was an event only one could win.  He reminded Roger of the Arachnos guards lining the walls.  He reminded Roger of his duty to the studio audience.  Throughout it all, Roger and Kitty just held each other and whispered to one another.  Tears on both their cheeks.

 

Finally, as the Arachnos guards moved in, their energy staffs ready to fire, Roger spoke his final, tearful goodbye and, holding his shield between himself and her gloves, hugged the beautiful competitor, driving the spikes into her stomach.

 

He held her until she stopped twitching, as the camera pulled back into a long shot, showing the carnage of the arena.

 

Roll the credits….Fade to black…

 

[ShepherdBest]

The armored figure strode down the dark alleyway.  Two snakes had tried stopping him, claiming this block as theirs, and he had left them, frozen and lifeless statues.  He unlocked a plain, iron and rust colored fire door and entered a stairway going down.  Entering a dark hallway, he passed by the homeless man lying under a pile of rags on the floor.  He knew anything disturbing the “sleeping man” would trigger the C4 charges in the dummy itself and the shaped charges leading back up the hallway and stairs all the way to the door.

 

Coming to a keypad at the end of the hall he typed in the 12 digit musical code and, ignoring the fake door at the end turned to the blank wall beside it and waited for it to slide open.  Entering the dark room he smiled as the armor's faceplate instantly adjusted to the bright lights that would have blinded an unprotected intruder.

 

His two co-conspirators looked up as he entered.  The newly dubbed Snowcrab removed the helmet and grinned happily at them, “So, am I a genius, or what?  The plan went without a hitch, and they never suspected a thing!”

 

Kitty Marcone glared at him.  “I don’t remember a beheading in the plan!  We could have used his connections.”

 

Roger gave her a steady look.  “He was unreliable.  As likely to turn against us as not.  What can I say, I made an executive decision.  Now, what is the word on the street?”

 

Randall Vance turned from the impressive array of computer terminals and AV equipment.  “Okay, the market shares on the show went through the roof after that last scene.  It has run on every entertainment show out there and DVD and syndication rights have already been picked up.  Included in the advertisements is an endorsement from Captain Mako about how great the show is, blah, blah, blah.  We have job offers from several supervillain outfits, and I’ve narrowed it down to the top two for you to peruse.”  He passed a green file-folder of information and pictures to Roger and took a breath to continue.  “The Family has put a hit out on you for murdering Kitty there, but according to Kitty it is simply a formality, and they aren’t actively assigning anyone to it.  You might get a hotshot or two gunning for you in an attempt to make a name for themselves, but we figure, nothing you can’t handle.”

 

The three chuckled, and Kitty picked up the thread.  “Through a number of dummy corporations, we have picked up controlling interest in the show and hold sole rights to any sequels or spin-offs.  The Announcer and key personnel in the show have already met with unfortunate accidents, so we won’t have any worrying leaks about the truth of the last two episodes.  Bruno and Nunzio are back in place at their old jobs within the family, but they know where their loyalties lie and will pass along any information we need.  They will also look for potential converts, but will not approach them, so as to insulate themselves from anything we do.  After the beating the two of you gave them, I doubt anyone would expect them to be working for you.”

 

Randall and Roger shared a grin at that and Randall picked up the flow once more.  “Hamish is out scouting new talent abroad and will funnel us names and information as needed.  Vanessa has been approached by the Artemis group and will begin working with them and do the same.  All said and done, we have our fingers in quite a few pies.  Kitty will run the business details and new member conversion, and I am handling information flow and coordination of all the agents, which leaves you to go out there and play psycho cowboy with your power armor.  My hat’s off to you, my friend.  We’ve accomplished a lot and have the nice start of an organization here.”

 

Roger chuckled as he replaced his helmet, “This is nothing.  Wait till season two!”

 

((Here ends the story.  Hope you all enjoyed things as much as I have enjoyed writing them.))