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Oh hai Jesus
[ *  * ]
Tears were still streaming down Bob's face.

"Shut up! Just.......fuckin' shut up! All right, man? I hate this shit!"

He took a few steps backward, paused, and dropped his bag in the sand. His arms fell down by his sides.

Bob was one of those kids who had never faced a moment of hardship in his life. Life, to Robert Williams Lazenby, was a cycle of drinking, smoking, mockery of people not as cool as him, and writing music. Everything came right to his feet; his parents had enough money that he wouldn't be left wanting (though he never asked for much), he was a musical genius, and he had plenty of friends. The only things he didn't enjoy in life was the lame school population and how underappreciated his genius was. Heathens.

And now, he had been thrust onto national television in a competition where he had to either mercilessly slaughter more innocent people than some serial killers or face a slow, painful death. All ready for mockery if he messed up in either.

He was probably getting laughed at right now.

Wiping his eyes, Bob bent down and picked up his glasses. Brushing the sand from the lenses, the world came into focus once more. All he could tell was that he was on a beach. The guy in front of him looked vaguely familiar in the same way everyone else from his school looked vaguely familiar: the people Bob passed in hallways or in class day after day without bothering to learn their names.

He sniffed. "Well, may as well see what's in store for me. Oh, murderous fate, what have you tossed me into now?" He didn't know exactly why he felt so poetic when he had just wet himself on national television. At this point Bob was completely ignoring the possible threat in front of him. He would later reflect that this was not the smartest move.

Unzipping his pack, he first pulled out a bandanna. Black with a grinning white skull emblazoned on the center. Tacky, but he had no choice. Not unless he wanted a rather fragmentary death. He paused from his unpacking to wrap it around his bicep.

Below that was a laser pointer. Probably meant to attach to a gun or something. He clicked the button to make sure it was working, then turned it off and tossed it aside.

Beef jerky, Coca-Cola, Wonderbread, et cetera. Mainstream bullshit, as usual. More corporate trash meant to sell fake, chemical-laden food.

A black t-shirt, and under that a blue shirt with NERF written in large yellow letters on the front. Turning it over, he found a bullseye on the back. Wonderful.

A yellow and black striped spandex bodysuit with a plunging v-neck almost down to the navel.

Wait..............what the FUCK?

His eyes did not deceive him. An outfit that would have had any hair metal artist salivating and reaching for their credit card was currently held in his hands. The absolute worst piece of fashion he had ever seen in his life. "What the holy hell is this? Like hell I'm going to wear this piece of shit!" He tossed it aside, the bodysuit landing in a pile of unresolved sexual tension between bandmates.

Map, compass, first aid kit, flashlight, condom. Standard supplies. Well, except the condom. But he doubted he would ever use it, so meh. The girls here probably weren't his type.

Bob continued to dig to the bottom of the bag, searching for his weapon. He felt canvas. Nothing but canvas.

He turned the bag over and shook it. Nothing fell out.

His gaze turned to the laser pointer.

Edited by chitoryu12, Apr 20 2011, 04:04 AM.
The Program
M10: John Ferrara: Italian soccer star
Weapons: Banjo w/ eagle logo (broken)
Calico Liberty III Handgun (50/50, 50/50)

[M19: Matthew Gourlay: Rich Bitch
Weapons: Calico Liberty III handgun (Taken)

BLK01: Bob Lazenby: Hipster
Weapons: Laser Pointer

M13: Kenneth Danielson
Weapons: Tobacco pipe (discarded in Town Outskirts)

I just slit a man's throat and stole his clothes and I love you all!
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Down by the Water · The Coastal Lake
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