Commit sepukku.
Respawn and get DD again.
You grab your own head and quickly twist, snapping your neck.
Someone very much like you reappears in the stands with 6 dd.
FatXan, with his last breath, calls his even fatter father.
Hey dad ... you gotta come here ... drugs ... and ... people to crush ...
He died.
Then even fatter Dad Xan shows up at the arena.
Get DD!
5 dd
Just noticed this:
An air horn blows to signal the start of the punishment round.
I assume you mean elimination round?
yes
Continue biting faces!
pick up a particularly pointy bone and begin shanking people.
Smurf and Pariah, their brains running on a non-specific type of violence, immediately attack each other. Smurf bites out Pariah's left Eye and Pariah impales the weasel and the smashes him into the ground, killing the rodent.
Wipe fat guy viscera off my face and go buy some more beer. Pop one open and drink it while going back down the ramp. When I get to the bottom, introduce the bottle to Wasted Bastard's head.
How strong are these beers, anyways?
In terms of alcohol content or physical durability?
Name: Wasted Bastard
Description: A guy who's so thin that his bones show, and his hips form a bowl in which stuff can be held. His stringy greasy hair is falling out in chunks, but reaches down to his lowest rib. His eyes bulge out like nothing you've ever seen, and dart this way and that without end. He's coated in a blue crystalline powder, probably from rolling in some drugs like a cat with catnip.
Reason for signing up: Out of money for drugs and food and rent, so need, like, 20 bucks to make it this month.
Stats:
Strength: 1 (wish this could be 0 for the auto fail)
Dexterity: 11
Endurance: -8 (I mean, 1)
Speed: 2
Intelligence: 1
Luck: 10
Will: 1
Perception: Negative infinity (1)
Stand my ground at the bottom of the ramp. If anyone comes down, wildly assault them with teeth, bludgeon them with the shackle, and try that combination again in case killing audience members earned me any points. Otherwise try to recover from being mobbed.
((I'm curious to know how strong these beers are, myself. Judging my the amount everyone's been drinking I'm gonna assume they're similar to normal beer in terms of alcohol per volume. Anyway, since my remaining bottle of beer probably ain't flammable...))
"This is hardly sporting!"
Tsafi watched with a mix of awe and horror as his fellow audience members shed any semblance of humanity, descending on the lone contestant- a poor soul putting his life on the line for the entertainment of the masses- in a screaming swarm of mindless violence.
"No way I'm going down there, but I may as well spice things up a little..."
>Go and buy a bottle of cheap, highly alcoholic spirits. If such is not available in the stadium, go buy it from a liquor store and sneak it in. Possibly in my pants. (I have 13 DD total, by the way.)
>Then, tear a strip of fabric from the bottom of my trouser leg, stuff it into the neck of the bottle.
>Light this (hopefully flammable) molotov cocktail and hurl it into the arena at the first group I can see of three or more people.
>If I lack the means to light it, buy a lighter if I have enough DD remaining. Hopefully Tsafi has a smoking habit already, and thus a lighter. If I don't have enough, just give up, sit in the stands and drink the beer I have already, shaking my head in disgust at the scene below.
Name: Tsafi Gohn
Description: A lean, wiry, short fellow with sharp features, a near-constant scowl and his fair share of scars. The tip of his long, hooked nose appears to have been bitten off at some point in his past. His greasy, shoulder length brown hair is usually kept tied back.
Reason for signing up: Worked as a cheap assassin for years, found that the line of work agreed with him, but now an enemy of his has killed his parents in revenge, and he needs the money to care for his three young sisters.
Stats:
Strength: 2
Dexterity: 10
Endurance:1
Speed:1
Intelligence: 2
Luck: 10
Will:1
Perception:1
Doomblade187- 7DD
"Now I might have a shot... Let's give this a try."
Charge down the ramp and beat Wasted Bastard up.
Two men charge back down the ramp and engage Wasted Bastard in less then honorable combat. Wasted bashes one of them in the head with his Shackle and then starts gnawing on the others arm before he gets a bottle broken over his dome and kicked in the ribs.
And then a flaming bottle of highly alcoholic liquid arcs in from somewhere in the crowd and breaks across Wasted's shackle and suddenly the entire confused melee is on fire.