Episode One!
The floor of the van vibrates beneath you in the dark, the asthmatic hum of the engine filling your ears until your head rings.
You bump up and down on the uncomfortable, torn-up seats as the wheels bounce in an out of the many pot-holes, occasionally jostling you against the human forms either side of you, courtesy of the Nation's maintenance budget cuts.
Maybe you don't like the dark? Too bad. You made your mark on the paper, and they came to take you away. They have you, in that paper, trapped within the ink, screaming to get out. Beating your fists against your papery white prison and yelling the vilest of obscenities, all of no avail.
Not really, of course. In reality you've just been shoved into the back of a van, along with five others like you, plunged into darkness as the doors closed. But you did sign that paper. You mightn't even know what that means, but from our grand nation's point of view you agreed to all this. You signed away your right to complain, you signed away your voice, all for the promise of something to eat, a crust of bread or maybe a half-full bottle of cheap beer.
You didn't think ahead. You people never do. Might as well not start now. Just try to block out the sounds of nervous breathing all around you, ignore the strange smells, close your eyes against the dark and maybe whisper back to the voices in your head.
The road beneath this smelly, wheeled prison becomes smoother, the driving less erratic as there are less holes to swerve around.
Guess you must be nearly there...
****
"Welcome, people, welcome! To the new season of
Swyjadepa-ffto!" The handsome, blond haired host takes a moment to clear his throat after stumbling over the name, then continues, his beaming, perfect smile filling the camera, and by extension, television screens across the nation.
"I'm your host, Dazzle E. Ngcharm! We're about to get started, but hang on just a moment folks, first we've got to meet...
"The Contestants!" Name: D'nagirb Feiht
Gender: Presumably Male.
Biography/Just how things got to be so gosh-darned bad: I tinker with things. Things I don't like. There are many things. I don't like. Many things. Must be fixed.
Attach Photo: I am two yards in length from top to bottom, with four appendages of nearly equal length, both attached to my torso in pairs. I have black hair and a tanned complexion. Which somehow brings out my eyes. Metaphorically. My Irises are colored Green. Forest Green.
I am normal.
Your most treasured posession: I have a wrench. This is my wrench. There are many others like it. But this wrench. Is Mine.
Name: Grasasplurt! [what could be made out of his answer when asked for a name]
Gender: Male (although he insists that it is Dftgrahm!)
Biography: Born to uncertain parents (he gives their names as Ressaflart! and Lopigurt!) in an uncertain location (Garimansplasht!), Grasasplurt has wandered the terrible, terrible streets of many cities, occasionally receiving a government-mandated beating for theft, disturbing the peace and indecent exposure. Very little is known of his past, as Grasasplurt! only refers to a nebulous event or person known as Pogralintushm! when directly questioned about it. He is known to enjoy Geflikroshatam! and Fghraah!, or at least seems to think so.
Picture: His picture shows a man in his late forties with an extremely weathered look to him. His face is covered in scars, burns and various other marks of punishment visited upon him in by the world. He obviously didn't expect to be photographed, as his picture shows his face in an expression of wide-eyed shock, his eyes bugging out, his hands lifting up to protect his face and his entire body getting ready to run away as fast as possible! His mouth is also open in the picture, showing a mouth full of yellow, slightly rotten and mostly absent teeth. Finally, many of his features are obscured by his chest-length hair and beard, both of which are horribly unkempt and disheveled.
Most treasured possession: a set of five piano strings, obtained (in his words) by Jufkratsifling Fedrijpntrs.
Name: GomMay-NoMmay THE BeZT
Gender: Peen
Biography/Just how things got to be so gosh-darned bad: Nommay-Nommay. 2 full too finish teh legss,,
Attach Photo: No, hair. Gom like. shave? Excep his ar'm. arm stay Hair.
Your Most Treasured Possession: Treash can liid
Name: GEEEEORGE
Gender: Huh?
Biography/Just how things got to be so gosh-darned bad: I wuz born in a hole. And mah parents were a lamp and a toaster oven. They took care of me good. One day they just up and broke. I wuz a sad George. I needed money. Then some kind of banana guy came up and told me about this here thingy! And that;s why ahm writin' this here paper!
Attach Photo: 
The nice Fruit guy drew this here drawing of me! Ain't it a beaut!?
Your most treasured posession: Mah Ukulele!
Name: Dennis Reed
Gender: Male
Biography/Just how things got to be so gosh-darned bad: Born poor. Stayed poor.
Attach Photo: Tattered clothing, brown hair and black eyes. Both ways. He's always dirty.
Your most treasured posession: A small novella.
"That's right, six of the ugliest low-down cretins to walk our streets, including a convicted cannibalistic murderer! Maybe you've even seen one or two of them in your travels? Maybe you saw them lined up outside our Nation's Aid offices? Maybe they shoved a hand towards you, begging for spare change, and maybe you even
gave them some? Well, people, let me say, on tonight's show these scumbags are going to show you just how
grateful they are for everything we've done for them! Yep, they're going to spit right on the hand that feeds them, break into some upstanding citizen's home and...
Steal Whatever They Can Get Their Dirty Poor Person Hands On! And now, we go live to the scene!"
****
The van comes to a sudden halt and the six of you are jolted almost out of your seats. The back doors crack open, dazzling your dark-accustomed eyes with the harsh, white sunlight, and you see your 'handler', Robert.
"Right, you lot! Out you get!" You file out obediently onto the side of the street, mindful of the whacking stick he holds. No doubt several of you have been introduced to it already.
Robert spits to one side and nods to the cameraman, Joe, really another no-hoper like the rest of you, just one step up due to carrying the camera. "Follow 'em in there and film whatever looks good. You know the drill."
Joe nods, his locks of greasy tangled hair topped off by a open-topped tophat, and bared yellowed teeth in a grin. Robert turns back to the rest of you, indicating the large, two-story house the van is parked in front of, painted a light blue with a pretty little flower garden in front.
"Right, you miserable bastards! Get on in there and steal whatever looks like it's worth something, then chuck it all in the van. I'm sure you get the idea. Whoever steals the most valuable stuff wins." He pauses for a moment, glaring from face to face.
"Oh, yeah. Be back here in, say, twenty minutes, tops." He glances up and down the street, which seems mostly deserted. "Or there's trouble."
With that said, he waves to Joe to start the camera and heads back to the driver's seat, the red light flashes on and
the show begins!
>Get in there and get stealing, people!
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Topic: RtSWYCGYDPPHO (Read 6978 times)