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Wednesday, July 18, 2012

Ty and Ryan's Fictional Character Hunger Games (Part X)


The Conclusion

See part IX



Dalton and greenman-suited Charlie Kelly trudge through the brush on their way towards the clearing and the Cornucopia. 

“Oh man, can you even see me right now or are am I, like, completely camouflaged?” Charlie giddily asks his companion as he frolics through the woods, his arms waving like a giant, blow-up, dancing man at a used car lot. 

“I can see you, Charlie,” says an exasperated Dalton.

“Hey, bro, sorry your lady died, or left you, either way” Charlie says sympathetically towards Dalton, misinterpreting the bouncer’s frustration with Charlie’s own antics for heartbreak.  Kate had, though, left unceremoniously last night.  After they had made camp around nightfall she had wandered off to find water and simply never returned.  Dalton felt sure that she was not foolish enough to be caught off-guard by any other competitors but he was also surprised that she would simply abandon him with Charlie…on second thought, perhaps Dalton could empathize…

“It’s ok, Charlie, let’s just stay quiet until we make it to the clearing,” Dalton says placidly.

“I know what’ll cheer you up, bro.  Me and Frank play this game called ‘Nightcrawlers,’ you’re gonna love it! I’ll show you tonight. Y’know…” Charlie says now, in a shrill voice (somehow even louder than he’d been before), “I thought there’d be more corn at the Cornucopia.  I’m really more a man of the law than science, bird-law to be precise, but I’m pretty sure a Cornucopia is a corn-tree, right?  Where does the corn grow off the Cornu…”

A ninja star flies directly over Charlie’s head.  “Whoa!!”  Charlie exclaims. 

“Run!  The clearing should be just ahead,” Dalton shouts to Charlie as both take off.

Before they can make it to clearing they see where the ninja star came from, Dwight is engaged in a vicious battle with Boo and Kevin (sitting on Boo’s shoulders, controlling and commanding him like Hannibal atop an elephant).  As the groups merge, each recognizing the other’s presence, all freeze.  Then, instantly, a battle ensues.  Fists and feet are flying as the tributes assail each other.  They’re all entangled in a furious storm of blows now at the edge of the forest.  Carried by the momentum of the fight, the group bursts through foliage and into the clearing near the Cornucopia.  They all stop, realizing where they are and momentarily taking inventory: Dwight, his glasses askew, his mustard yellow-shirt looking more honey than deli from the sweat; Dalton, slightly out of breath and shirtless (obviously); Charlie, looking near (or more near than usual) to death, clearly having alcohol and inhalant withdrawals but miraculously alive; and Boo Radley with KMac on his shoulders, an unlikely team.  They stare at each other for a few minutes, eyeing each other up now in the clearance, no one daring to make the first move…none sure of what that would even look like. 

“I think we’re the only ones left,” Dwight says finally.  They all look around silently, the non-response confirming Dwight’s statement.  They had all been too busy or hungry or scared to listen for any more to the death-announcing cannon blasts, but the silence in the group now feels like an unspoken agreement that they are likely the final competitors.
           
“I’m glad we are all able to meet, face-to-face, here in the open,” comes a voice from the woods suddenly.  The group turns to see Nic Cage emerge from the dark vegetation, his countenance calm, his appearance demure, un-cinematic.  He walks toward them, stopping in the middle of the group (who had formed something of a circle after emerging from the woods).  “I’m glad we could meet now that the Games have ended.”


 “Cage…” Dwight says darkly. 

“What do you mean, ended?” asks Dalton, skeptically. 

“Yes, ended…if they ever really began,” Cage responds enigmatically.  “Let’s just say that a survivor has emerged.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Dalton asserts, his eyes piercing into the heart of the mysterious man before him. 

“Don’t you see?  I’ve already won…” Cage seems to gaze off into another dimension.

“What?!  How have you won?” Dwight demands. 

“I said I’d take your face off, Dwight, and now it’s time,” Cage says to the paper salesman, strangely calm.  Dwight reactively semi-crouches in a karate stance and glowers at Cage, ready for his advance, when Cage turns from him and addresses the group, rotating slowly as he speaks.  “No, Dwight, I’m not going to hurt you, I don’t need to.  It’s time to unmask you…all of you, to take your fictional faces off and expose you to the truth.” 

“What are you talking about, man?! Did you find alcohol because you better not be holdin’ out on us!” Charlie rages, pulling down his Greenman mask inelegantly to address Cage, “and who ARE you?!”

“I’m you Charles,” Cage responds, even-toned.  “And I’m you Dwight, and you Dalton, and you too Boo,” Cage says, turning to address each Tribute respectively, “or rather…you’re all me.  This is how I’ve won.  You’re all more than flesh and bone standing around me…or perhaps you’re less…you’re fictional characters.  You have been forged in the fires of human emotion, pain, joy, regret and victory.  You represent part of an invisible reality.  You are spirit as much, or more, than body here before us.  There are aspects of each of you that define and, in fact, effect, who you are more so than physicality.  And I…I have been in more movies, played more characters, than is calculable by any means known to the world today, and in that, I myself have been in-grafted with your very essences.  Don’t you see, Dalton?  In Con-Air I was a tough guy by necessity, just like you.  I hated to start a fight but I didn’t hesitate to end one…and I too had a dark past from violence.  And in National Treasure I was a leader of men, also like you.  And you, poor Charles, I too know the horrors of alcoholism, as a man drinking himself to death in Leaving Las Vegas (“Well, you’re throwin’ out some accusations here, man…” – Charlie).  And Dwight, I was a socio-path in Face-Off.  Even you Boo, I was Boo Radley in a high school production of To Kill a Mockingbird, I was…magnificent…  But I digress, you see, my countless movie roles have melded me with the invisible qualities that compose your fictional beings.  Don’t you see?  I, myself have even started to resemble a fictional character. I have forced my way into both worlds.  I can’t help but be the ultimate winner, the ultimate survivor…I am fact-become-myth, that through the dying of all, I may yet live.”




 Everyone is shocked, spellbound, unable to speak.  The silence is thick when Kevin McCallister speaks up, “what about me?”  “Ah, Kevin,” Cage turns slowly toward him and moves closer, looking kindly upon the boy’s face, “Kevin there’s more of me in you than anyone else here…I’m your father, Kevin.  Don’t you see?  Can’t you all see how this ends?”  Cage says now turning around to address the whole circle.  “No matter who wins, Nic Cage lives, he lives because he’s in each and every one of you whether you like it or not.  Nic Cage is bigger than me…Nic Cage is bigger than all of us...” 

“WHAT?!,” Kevin finally breaks several moments’ silence, “how are you possibly my father?” 

“Do you really not understand…Macaully Culkin…” Cage says kindly.  “You and I are kindred spirits but at the opposite end of the spectrum.  You, Kevin McCallister, were so large, so luminous, as a fictional character that you begin to encroach upon reality.  You have joined Macaully in another dimension…We are the fence-crossers, Kevin.  You and I, father and son, we blur the once indelible line between reality and fiction…”

“Wait…” Dalton says, his eyes narrowing in intense concentration.  “But if we are really ideas, concepts brought into life to reflect some single or small collection of unseen realities…then we can’t really die at all…we would simply cease to reflect those invisible truths in the form that we currently do, at least until we are again imagined as such…we, actually, are larger than you.” The tension is beyond palpable amongst the group now as Dalton continues. “You may live on through us, but because you forced your real self into our mythical world, you’ll enjoy a terribly meager existence, you’ve gone the wrong way over the fence and you’ve spread yourself too thin, Cage.” 

“Like Voldemort!”  KMac shouts out excitedly. 

“Shhhhh! Don’t say his name…” Dwight cautions, his head instantly on a nervous swivel. 

Dalton presses on, “a single human can’t be in-grafted into all of the fictional characters in existence, each one representing some small space on the map of ultimate reality.  You can’t start off as a mortal man and then spread yourself out like that, that’s like an upside-down funnel!  Fact-become-myth devolves into non-existence...into a lie…”

Suddenly a horn blast envelopes the crowd.  While the others cover their ears defensively, Dwight sees an opportunity to strike and attacks Cage with a pair of nunchucks.  Cage, whose hands cover his ears more out of annoyance than fear, suddenly bursts into a flaming skeleton and begins to choke Dwight with a chain. 

As Dwight slowly chokes to death, the rest of the group looks up to the top of a giant hill on the north end of the clearing several hundred yards away; the noise seemingly emanating from the crest.  A blindingly bright figure slowly appears.  While they can't make out who or what it is, the group notices Kate Austen standing atop the hill next to the source of the sound and light, dressed elegantly in a light blue dress.  She looks like she has never even seen the arena, let alone been stranded for days.  As Kate and the light move slowly down the hill towards the group the glare from the bright figure dies down and the group sees a gargantuan lion standing before them.

"Hello, friends," the lion speaks.

"Are you kiddin' me!?  Who slipped me acid again?" Charlie stuttered, collapsing to the ground.  "That thing sounds like Liam Neeson!  Nic Cage AND Liam Neeson! What is going on in here?..." Charlie asks no one in particular, pointing to his head with a wild glint in his eye.

"I am Aslan.  I've come to lead you out of the Games"  The booming yet soothing voice of the lion permeates the arena and cuts through the surviving tributes' tension like a knife through butter.  “It’s just over the crest of the hill, if you’ll follow, Kate can lead you now...and I’ll meet you there soon,” his eyes shift for an instant towards Cage.


“We been over that hill before and we didn’t see no way out over there…sir" Boo says timidly while he and Kevin both tremble in awe of the talking beast.

"You haven’t been with me before,” Aslan responds.

“Is there something new over there?” Kevin asks.

"It will be new when I meet you there,” the lion almost smiles, “come and see.” 

“It won’t be comfortable going up the hill,” Kate says to the scared duo, “but you won’t be alone, and once you’re over you’ll never have to hide or set traps again.” 

Boo, still carrying the injured KMac on his shoulders walks over to stand by Aslan and Kate, ready for the journey.

"Come with us, Dalton!" Kate beckons to the bouncer. 

Dalton, who still holds a karate stance, eases up and stares at his former ally.  "Why did you disappear?"

"I saw the talking lion last night and I thought to myself, 'this could make for an interesting love triangle'."  Kate's honesty brings a smile to Dalton's face.  “But once I met him I couldn’t help but follow over the hill, come with us.” 

Before he can make a decision, Dalton turns to face his arch nemesis. Cage, who has returned to human form after taking out Dwight, stares back blankly.  Both men clinch their fists together, ready to fight.  "I hope you find your peace, Cage," he says stoically.  He eases his fists, turning his back on Cage, and joins Kate and the others.

"Wait, wait, wait just a minute here--" Charlie says excitedly.  He faces Aslan.  "Is there alcohol where we're going?  I could use some glue too..."

"Charlie, where you are going, you aren't going to need drugs," the lion responds.

"Uhh...yeahh...that's cool and all...but...uh...I'm gonna need some brews to ease my nerves a bit.  At least this dude Cage seems to have a stash of poppers or something.  Or maybe you could, like, teach me some of those sweet skills you used in Taken?  That would be pretty sweet…"

The lion sighs.  "The Waitress is waiting for you."

Charlie's eyes light up as he thinks of his long unrequited love.  He doesn't even acknowledge Cage, but pulls on his Greenman hood and scurries uncoordinatedly over to Kate.  “Go ahead with Kate, I’ll meet you there.  You’ll know when I arrive,” Aslan says authoritatively to the group who subsequently turns and begins moving towards the large hill.   

“What about me,” says darkly, the group now well behind them, “am I welcome?”

Aslan turns, addressing Cage, "Nicholas, I’m afraid you couldn’t survive over there…not in your condition," he says sadly. “And yet, if you’ll follow me up the hill…if the trek doesn’t kill you, all may not be lost yet…”

Cage laughs maniacally.  "You obviously underestimate me, you fool.  I'm Nic Cage; I'm above you."  They stare into each other's eyes, reading into each other's souls.  "You can't win, beast," Cage hisses.  "Haven’t you heard?  I can’t die."

“I’m afraid, Nicholas, that Dalton was closer to correct…you cannot live...not as you are.”

"You’re nothing but a talking lion.  I have seen and conquered things much scarier than you…I’ve stolen the Declaration of freakin’ Independence!"

"This is a mistake, Nicholas.  I can summon anything to end you.  Travolta, MegRyan, a hoard of bees..."

"Not the bees!" Cage hisses, slightly taken aback, but quickly regaining his venom, "this is the last good fight you'll ever know..."

Both Aslan and Cage pounce.

------

THE END




Thursday, June 14, 2012

Ty and Ryan's Fictional Hunger Games (Part IX)

To Kill a Love Triangle
 
The night is dark and Kevin McCallister is hard at work.  He has been avoiding confrontation as much as possible during the Games; partly because he has spent most of his time shooting toy soldiers with his BB gun, but mostly because deep down he knows his moment to shine is yet to come.  He waits patiently for the climax of the competition, much like he waited until the end of Home Alone to depose of Harry and Marv. 
 
And those guys were a lot scarier than these MORONS, he thinks to himself as he recollects his victorious encounter with Wonka.  He ties a rope to the trigger of his BB gun and creatively wraps the other end to a lowrising branch.  If someone walks by at night, they will undoubtedly hit the branch and get shot by the BB, he concludes.  He takes comfort knowing that if that doesn't work, he still has the various paint cans, micromachines, and blowtorches that sponsors have sent him.  Kevin has the distinct advantage of being the only remaining kid in the competition, bringing a slew of various items to cause malaise from sympathizing sponsors.
 
As Kevin works meticulously at hiding nails face-up in the grass, he hears bristling in the woods.  Chills run down his spine faster than a New York minute.
 
Could it be him?
 
Very early in the competition Kevin was cavalier towards his opponents.  Not many looked formidable; the only one who was, Achilles, was taken out by a man who the Wet Bandits themselves would scoff at.  That was until the giant, pale man who lurked in the shadows began to haunt his dreams.  He had only seen him twice so far, but both encounters proved to be more frightening than the next.  
 
The first time Kevin was setting a trap for the Hamburglar.  A sponsor had sent a burger from the sky, no doubt to assuage any fears that the Hamburglar had about not having any inside the arena.  However, Kevin slyly picked it up and began to set a trap for his striped foe.  By placing the burger on top of a pit, he planned to catch his first victim.  He watched from a distance as the Hamburglar spoke to Katniss, believing it was only a matter of time before his opponent noticed the burger and lost all reason.  Kevin was giddy in that almost-but-not-quite-sociopathic way of his that was only revealed when he had to protect his house or when Elijah Wood came to visit.  That was until the monster man, who never said a word, revealed himself from behind a brush.  His placid demeanor terrified young Kevin and he scrambled away into the woods, screaming the entire way.  He didn't know what happened to the burger, but he believed the man had something to do with the Hamburglar's face being shown as a fallen tribute in the sky that night.
 
The next time he saw the mysterious man was much quicker yet even more terrifying.  Kevin had found himself in a tree when Super Mario began to trip on mushrooms.  Kevin, a master of all things Mario due to his incessant love for Gameboy, eagerly placed the mushroom around the plumber after he heard Mario's joyous laughter.  Mario quickly took the bait and his reaction to the psychedelic drug was almost instant.  He watched with amusement as Mario crouched down and then launched himself in the air, believing he was actually growing.  After throwing imaginary fireballs into the air, Mario ran full-speed into the woods and directly into the pale man, who stood stoic by a tree.
 
"Donkey Kong.  Is that you?" Mario asked hysterically.  The man didn't answer, but continued to stare with dead eyes.  "Let's go Kong! Time to save the Princess! Ya ha!"  Mario ran sluggishly ahead, leaving behind the towering ghost.  The man turned his head upwards, noticing Kevin in the tree immediately. 
 
 
Kevin ran, hands on cheeks, screaming into the woods.
 
Now Kevin hid as if he had just destroyed his brother Buzz's shelves.  He awaits his menacing stalker on a tree branch attached to a blowtorch.  As soon as I see him, I'll blow him to Kingdom come.
 
Much to Kevin's surprise, three figures emerge from the forest.  One is an athletic male wearing 80's attire and a decidedly awesome mullet.  To his right, the same dark-haired beauty who he witnessed wooing both Cage and Wonka from before looked longingly at Dalton.  Trailing a few feet behind, the homeless-looking guy who attacked Achilles on the first day is visibly shaking, clearly having withdrawals.
 
 
 
"Dalton," Kate says, "I wouldn't have left Cage if I didn't have deep feelings for what we have."
 
"Save it, Kate.  I'm not into brunnetes."
 
"Hey, Kate, I still kinda have a thing for the Waitress...she's my one an only...but can I ask you somethin'?"
 
Kate stops five feet from the very tree where, unbeknownst to her, Kevin McCallister holds a can of paint, ready to attack.  Yet although his position works in his advantage, he is weary to attack three at once, deciding to hold off unless one runs into his BB trap. 
 
Kate, meanwhile, is slowly coming to grips that she left the enigmatic yet promising Cage, who insisted on "taking off Dwight's face" for these two clowns on the off-chance she could start a love triangle with them.  Little did she know that Dalton's zen prevented him from falling for anyone other than blonde doctors while  Charlie would be as useful as a pair of kitten mittons.
 
"What is it, Charlie?" she asked, exasperated.
 
"Uh..you haven't by chance picked up any glue in the arena, huh?  Mac promised he was gonna send some.  Man!  What's a guy gotta do to huff a li'l glue around here, huh?!"
 
Kate doesn't answer, but continues to walk.  Dalton looks at his comrade, placing a knowing arm around him.
 
"Don't worry, buddy," Dalton says, "we're going to take real good care of you at the Cornucopia.  Have you ever tried meditating?"
 
Charlie looks past him with wide eyes, noticing something laying in the grass just ahead of them.  He laughs maniacally and runs towards the package while Dalton and Kate look at him curiously.
 
"What is it, Charlie?" Kate asks cautiously.
 
Charlie doesn't answer at first, instead crouching down and examining a sleek suit that he has grown to love over the years.  He picks it up and shows it to his friends gleefully. They stare back in confusion.
 
"Awww yeah! Mac in the house!  Don't you see what it is?!" Charlie exclaims.  "We can win now!"
 
"Charlie, we can't win anything," Kate says.  "Do you not remember the rules?  And what is that?  It smells horrible."
 
Charlie doesn't answer, but begins to put on the suit.
 
"Guys... I'M GREENMAN!"
 
 
 
Kevin looks on as the three people disappear into the night before sighing with relief.  He had the jump on them, but he would wait for an opportunity to pick them off one by one.  He just needed some more ---
 
SNAP!
 
The branch that Kevin rests on breaks in half, sending him sprawling towards the ground like a sack of voltage adapters.  Three feet from the ground, his leg tangles in a noose he had prepared earlier on an adjacent branch.  He now hangs helplessly from the ankle, which seers in pain.  He yelps, but tries his best to conceal his lamentations until he realizes the blowtorch has been activated mere inches from him.  It dangles on a string, coming dangerously close to burning him.  It will be a matter of moments before his own traps doom him.  He groans at his misfortune.
 
"My brother was right," Kevin says aloud, "I AM A DISEASE!"
 
Suddenly, a shadowy figure emerges from the abyss.  Kevin's heart sinks into his stomach, an impressive feat seeing as he hangs upside down.  He slowly begins to realize that the torch may now be the least of his worries.
 
It's him.
 
Kevin begins to scream as the man walks slowly towards him, a nervous look in his eyes.  He yells for the trio to come back to save him, but no one comes.  The ghost stares at him for a few moments, curiously watching the blowtorch spin next to the boy, before making his move towards him.  Kevin closes his eyes, finally accepting his fate.
 
Before he knows it, he senses the man's large hands tearing at rope, loosening the grip of the noose.  Confused, Kevin opens his eyes and sees that the man isn't trying to harm him, but is freeing him.  He lands with a thud on the ground below him, his ankle swelling profusely.  Kevin looks up at the man with bewildered eyes.  No one says a word.  Finally, the man waves to him.  Kevin hesitantly waves back.  The man then extends his hand to help the mischievous boy to his feet. 
 
"Hi."
 
"Huh..hello."
 
"...I'm Boo."
 
1)      Achilles - 1/3
2)      Dalton - 10/1
3)      Katniss - 20/1
4)      Super Mario - 30/1
5)      Dwight Schrute - 35/1
6)      Nic Cage - 40/1
7)      Willy Wonka – 60/1
8)      Kate Austen– 60/1
9)      Kevin McCallister – 75/1
10)  Horatio – 75/1
11)  Rudy Ruettiger - 80/1
12)  Helen of Troy - 90/1
13)  The Hamburglar – 90/1
14)  Yossarian – 90/1
15)  Harry Potter – 100/1
16)  Lennie – 120/1
17)  Steve Urkel – 200/1
18)  Charlie Kelly – 250/1
19)  Marcia Brady – 300/1
20)  Willy Loman – 400/1
21)  Hester Prynne – 600/1
22)  Miss Piggy – 800/1
23)  Adrian Balboa – 1,000/1
24)  Boo Radley - ? 

Monday, June 4, 2012

Ty and Ryan's Fictional Hunger Games (Part VIII)

See part:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
Of Monsters, Ninja Stars, and Men

Nic Cage and Kate sit on top of a bluff overlooking the wooded field thirty feet below them.  Ever since Wonka had been taken out by the youngster, Kate had been keeping an eye out for traps.  Cage, whose hair is long and blond today, keeps his eyes focused ahead of him, seemingly KNOWING what was going to happen NEXT.  He had brought them to this peak, much to her confusion.

"I don't understand.  We are sitting ducks up here," she says to him as he pulls out a pair of expensive sunglasses.  They have fiery symbols emblazoned on the sides.

"I stole these shades from the devil himself," Cage claims, completely ignorant to the fact that Kate is sitting next to him.  He releases a boastful laugh before noticing the shaking of trees below him.  They both notice Lennie, the lovable hulk-of-a-man who didn't seem to be totally right in the head, aimlessly walking through the jungle.  If Kate didn't know any better, she would have thought that he was at complete peace out there in the wilderness by himself.

"We should ask him to join us," Kate says aloud, thinking that she can possibly play the two males against each other.  At this point, the thought of a potential love triangle is the main driving force keeping her going.  However, Cage doesn't acknowledge her, instead pointing twenty feet ahead where Katniss has her bow poised to take out the lumbering ranch hand.


Katniss' thoughts run rampant as she keeps her arrow trained to Lennie's forehead.  This behemoth is a threat and I can't trust anyone, she thinks to herself.  But at the same time, why is he smiling?  Doesn't he know it's not safe to walk out in the open

Before she can act, the Man in the Mustard Yellow Shirt appears behind Lennie, aggressively brandishing a large kitana.  He moves silently yet quickly, and Katniss can't help but feel real sympathy for the unassuming giant.  She tries to aim for Dwight Schrute, but has no shot as he runs directly behind Lennie.  Finally, she reacts.

"Lennie! Behind you!'

Lennie hears the girl shout and turns around, his mammoth arms accidentally colliding into Dwight's head.  The man crumples into the grass, unconscious.  Lennie's shoulders perk up shamefully as he turns back to Katniss.

"Gee, I sure didn't mean to do that, ma'am."

Katniss has completely lowered her weapon, conceding that she is unable to harm such an innocent man. 

"It's okay, Lennie.  That's your name right?"

"Yes'm.  I was minding my own business here when the man-"

"It's okay, Lennie.  I'll protect you."

Katniss stands a few feet from him, wanting to show good faith but cautious to move forward.

"What's your name?"

"Katniss."

"Like a cat?  You look soft."  Lennie moved closer to her and touched her arm.  Katniss, unsure of what to do, stood with her arms folded but allowed him to continue.  The next thing she knew, his arms had wrapped around her tighter than a boa constrictor.  Lennie laughed as he continued to hug his new friend tight.  Friends had been few and far between here in the arena.  He ignored her gasps as he thought about George, his best friend who promised him they would own their own land someday.  If only he could be here now; this land could be their land.

Finally, Lennie lets go.  Katniss crumbles to the ground next to Dwight, who is suddenly coming to.  He looks at the ground next to him and laughs at what he sees.  Lennie, panicking, begins to cry.

"Why won't she wake up?!" he asks incredulously.  Dwight, fearful for his own safety, continues to lay down to avoid any confrontation. 

"Lennie, are you looking for George?" he asked, recanting the name from which he had overheard Lennie saying to himself while stalking him earlier.  Lennie looked up between tears and nodded his head slowly.  "Don't worry, I know where he is."

"Can you take me to him?" he wiped away at his face as Dwight stood up nodding.

"Of course I can, Len.  You lead the way and I'll show you.  He's just around this here thicket."
Lennie follows Dwight's instructions and leads the way into the thicket.  Dwight hears an audible gasp from the cliff above.  He turns his head and sees Nic Cage and Kate, the former holding his hands over Kate's mouth.  Dwight snickers and gives a fake bow before plunging a ninja star into Lennie's thick neck.  He runs awkwardly into the thicket and out of sight from the duo above.  Cage stands, sighs, and immediately begins to scale the cliff. 

"You knew this was coming, didn't you?" Kate asks in outrage.  Cage merely nods, continuing his descent to the bottom.  "Where are you going??"

For the first time in hours, Cage acknowledges his companion. 

"I'm going to take his face....OFF!"



ELIMINATED FROM THE COMPETITION:  KATNISS EVERDEEN AND LENNIE SMALL

1)      Achilles - 1/3
2)      Dalton - 10/1
3)      Katniss - 20/1
4)      Super Mario - 30/1
5)      Dwight Schrute - 35/1
6)      Nic Cage - 40/1
7)      Willy Wonka – 60/1
8)      Kate Austen– 60/1
9)      Kevin McCallister – 75/1
10)  Horatio – 75/1
11)  Rudy Ruettiger - 80/1
12)  Helen of Troy - 90/1
13)  The Hamburglar – 90/1
14)  Yossarian – 90/1
15)  Harry Potter – 100/1
16)  Lennie – 120/1
17)  Steve Urkel – 200/1
18)  Charlie Kelly – 250/1
19)  Marcia Brady – 300/1
20)  Willy Loman – 400/1
21)  Hester Prynne – 600/1
22)  Miss Piggy – 800/1
23)  Adrian Balboa – 1,000/1
24)  Boo Radley - ? 

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Ty and Ryan's Fictional Hunger Games (Part VII)


See part:
1
2
3
4
5
6

Really, Really, Ridiculously Good Looking




Deep in the woods of the Fictional Character Hunger Games arena, Helen of Troy walks gracefully along a small, slowly moving stream.  It’s mid-afternoon on the second day of the Games and the sun has just sunk below the tops of the tall trees that run along the stream.  Sunlight flickers through the branches, catching Helen’s long golden hair, creating a sparkling effect that gloriously frames her calm countenance. 

It had been a relatively uneventful first twenty-four hours in the arena for Helen.  After stepping elegantly off her pedestal at the sound of the horn, she began to gather food, blankets and water bottles from the collection of survival items and weapons surrounding the Cornucopia.  She had, of course, thoughtfully considered her strategic options prior to the Games.   Her initial plan, obviously, was to intoxicate the most fearsome warrior among the Tributes with her beauty and convince him to protect her.  Things became more complicated, however, the minute Achilles was announced as a Wildcard Tribute.  Here was the ultimate protector.  She had seen him slay mighty Hector, knew of his tremendous skills on the battlefield…he was the ideal target.  Paradoxically, he was also the worst potential target.  What were the chances that a man-slaughtering war machine would be chosen as a Tribute and, that that very same warrior would be one of the few men in the history of fictional characters on whom Helen’s charm may not work!  There was too much history between the two and, besides, Achilles was moody and unpredictable, there was no way to predict how their past would affect him.  In the end, Helen decided that, rather than find a protector, she would simply avoid the women in the arena and rely on the fact that, protector or no, no male tribute could bring himself to hurt her.  Even Achilles, she thought, though he may not protect me, would not be able to harm a creature so beautiful as I.  She would then be able to simply wait the rest out.  So, after gathering supplies and carefully avoiding attacks from the female tributes, Helen retreated into the woods. 

There had been only one moment, near the Cornucopia, when she had needed to resort to manipulation.  A man with a mustard-yellow shirt and glasses had approached her from behind, wielding a set of ninja stars.  She was just able to turn around before he sent one flying at her.  “Oh, hello,” Helen said with a sophisticated femininity that made every other woman Dwight Schrute had ever heard speak sound like a chain-smoking trucker.  “Oh, uh…hello,” Dwight said dumbly, dropping his poised ninja-star-throwing hand and proceeding to simply stare awkwardly at the angel before him.   He stood there for a moment in awe of the embodiment of physical beauty smiling back at him before she politely said, “well, I have to go now.  Goodbye.”  “G’bye” he murmured as she turned and headed towards the woods.  But the rest of the first day and night were peaceful for Helen.  And now, after a good night’s rest, she’s wandering along the water, pondering how best to catch a fish.



Further down the stream, Katniss is hunting.  She hasn’t seen anyone since that bizarre encounter with the Hamburglar.  She treads quietly along the edge of the stream, eyes and ears waiting for any sign of an animal coming to drink.  Suddenly, she hears noise from the woods next to her.  Whipping around, she immediately has an arrow trained directly at the head of…a man.  Who is this? Katniss thinks.  She doesn’t recognize him.  He emerges from the woods as Katniss remains still, her arrow still directed for a kill shot.  He stops just where the vegetation clears, twenty feet from her.  He’s wearing a suit?!  He’s wearing a suit in the arena!? Katniss thinks to herself, dumbfounded, but a small voice inside her heard pipes up, and he’s pulling it off!  It was true; the man didn’t look unnatural in a full, three-piece suit.  In fact, it would almost seem more bizarre were not so immaculately dressed. “Hey Katniss,” says the man, in a voice more soulful than anything Katniss had ever heard.  “Who are you?”  Katniss calls back aggressively.  “You know what I like about you, Katniss?” the man continues, now moving slowly but casually toward her, “it’s not that you’re smart, even though were too clever for the Capitol.”  He doesn’t take his eyes off her as he moves closer, his gait relaxed, confident but measured.  “And it’s not that you’re kind, even though you take care of you’re family back home.”  He’s now five feet from her.  Katniss still has the bow pulled taut but she finds herself more focused on the man’s dark eyes and the trace of a grin he wears as he speaks.  “And it’s not that, even in the arena, in the woods, without a mirror in sight, you’re still…beautiful,” Katniss blushes noticeably but he continues, moving closer and closer still.  “What I like about you is that you’re strong.  You don’t let anyone change you…not that I see any reason they should want to.”  Like awaking from a dream, Katniss realizes the man is a mere foot from her, she tries to shake herself back to complete sobriety but he stares down at her and she’s mesmerized.   I’m Stefan Urquelle.  So what do you say, girl, you wanna team up with me?”  Katniss feels herself nodding, unaware that her bow has fallen to her side.  She feels drugged and can only focus on Stefan’s proximity and intense gaze.  Within minutes they are walking, silently, alongside the stream, her hand in the crook of his arm, any thought of Peeta or Gale replaced by a dreamy voice inside her head saying over and over again, “Katniss Urquelle, Katniss Urquelle...” 



After meandering along the water blissfully, Katniss is suddenly propelled back into reality as the couple come upon another tribute, a woman, a hundred yards ahead.  Immediately, Katniss has released Stefan’s arm and is looking down the shaft of an arrow aimed at the woman ahead.  “No,” says Stefan gently but urgently as he puts his hand on her arm, beckoning her to lower the weapon, “I’ll take care of this.”  Without questioning, Katniss obeys.  Stefan acknowledges the acquiescence, softly tucking her hair behind her ear before he begins to walk toward the woman.  Time to go to work, Stefan thinks to himself as he begins to exaggerate his rhythmic strut.  Like the Pied Piper, he’ll play his tune (it would, of course, be a slow jam) and they’ll follow blindly.  This is how he’ll escape the Arena.  He’ll soon have an army of adoring female tributes ready to fight for him.  The woman he’s approaching has not taken notice of Katniss or Stefan yet and is facing the other direction.  This girl might be cute, thinks Stefan, she looks pretty good from here.  I wonder if it’s that Helen girl, I never got a good look at her before the games but everyone seemed to be talking about her, might have to pull out the big guns… 

As Stefan approaches, Helen readies herself.  She heard his footsteps several seconds ago, recognizing the heavy treading as that of a man.  On three, she thinks as she prepares herself to stun her stalker.  One, two, three… Helen turns around quickly, her golden hair whipping through the air, seemingly in slow motion, and she gives her best doe-eyed look to the man now she now faces. 

Though silent, a small shock-wave races out in all directions from what appears to be it’s epicenter…the pair of perfect physical specimen looking each other directly in the eye.  Twenty feet away Katniss is nearly knocked to her feet.  Regaining her balance, she can only watch the scene in front of her, awestruck, her mind trying in vain to grasp the nature of the powerful forces at work.  It’s a seduction stalemate!  An immovable object of hotness has finally met an unstoppable force of suave!

Both Stefan and Helen recoil slightly at first, each momentarily stunned by the physical beauty of the other, simultaneously recognizing their counterpart in the eyes looking back at them.  But quickly, like the wooers they were created to be, they are back to the task at hand.  Helen bats her eyes, her long eyelashes fluttering.  Stefan squints his eyes at Helen, nods his head slowly and bites his bottom lip.  It’s like two prize fighters, both at the top of their game, meeting center-ring…and the bell has rung.  They begin circling each other, ten feet apart.  Stefan takes off his suit jacket and loosens his tie, Helen responds by removing the coat she found at the Cornucopia, now wearing only a toga.  Anticipating each other’s next move, both begin speaking at exactly the same time.  “Hey, girl.  I’m Stefan” Stefan says, pouring into each syllable as much swag as it can hold.  But it can barely be heard over Helen’s melodic, smiling, “I’m Helen, Helen of Troy.”  Both slightly stunned by the traded punches, they stop circling and begin moving towards each other, slowly.  Now inches apart, Stefan makes the first move, reaching out and sweeping Helen’s golden bangs away from her forehead.  The stakes have been raised.  Helen counters, looking shyly at the ground then grinning up at Stefan, making her eyes as large as possible, opening and closing her eyelids slowly.  Stefan winces slightly and Helen smells blood.  Still smiling up at him, she goes to put her hand on his arm but before she can get there Stefan makes an inspired move.  I’ve been really tryiiiiiinnggg, baby… tryin’ to hold back this feeeeeling, for sooooo loooong…” he begins to sing in a soft, smoky voice.  Helen, coming from a world of romantic lute-playing and harp-strumming, unacquainted with the lyrical and melodic potency of Marvin Gaye, is unprepared for this.  She begins to swoon. 

Got her! Stefan thinks, just now reaching the chorus, time to go for the gusto… this ends now.  Simultaneously, Helen is fighting to stay alive but fading fast.  This battle will not be won by mere posturing, she thinks to herself, the man’s siren call has weakened me; there is now only one course of action.  No man has kissed the lips of Helen of Troy and failed to fall deeply in love… And quickly both go in for the kill shot at the same time. 

Katniss wakes up, groggy and in pain.  Her whole body feels bruised and she can’t remember where she is.  She’s lying next to the stream and as she examines her surroundings she begins to remember.  She was watching, dumbfounded, as Helen and Stefan were embroiled in an epic battle of woo worthy of Homer himself. When, suddenly, just as their lips met, a blinding light rushed out and Katniss was knocked off her feet, the concussion of what seemed like a bomb detonating throwing her through the air.  Slowly, now, she moves over to where Helen and Stefan had been.  There is no one in sight.  She looks around at the soil near the stream where they had stood.  There’s a large black burn mark in a circular shape.  Could they have just combusted? Katniss asks herself, feeling foolish once the question formulates fully in her mind.  She stands there, still shocked.  Maybe the powers of attraction at work were simply too much, too near each other?  Like two potent chemicals that should never be mixed.  She had already seen a man simply disappear into thin air, could it be, now, that two people had been incinerated in an explosion that came as a result of heretofore unseen levels of attractiveness and seduction being directed at each other?  This is a weird Hunger Games, Katniss thinks to herself…

ELIMINATED FROM THE COMPETITION:  HELEN OF TROY AND STEVE URKEL/STEFAN URQUELLE

1)      Achilles - 1/3
2)      Dalton - 10/1
3)      Katniss - 20/1
4)      Super Mario - 30/1
5)      Dwight Schrute - 35/1
6)      Nic Cage - 40/1
7)      Willy Wonka – 60/1
8)      Kate Austen– 60/1
9)      Kevin McCallister – 75/1
10)  Horatio – 75/1
11)  Rudy Ruettiger - 80/1
12)  Helen of Troy - 90/1
13)  The Hamburglar – 90/1
14)  Yossarian – 90/1
15)  Harry Potter – 100/1
16)  Lennie – 120/1
17)  Steve Urkel – 200/1
18)  Charlie Kelly – 250/1
19)  Marcia Brady – 300/1
20)  Willy Loman – 400/1
21)  Hester Prynne – 600/1
22)  Miss Piggy – 800/1
23)  Adrian Balboa – 1,000/1
24)  Boo Radley - ?