text: (I recently posted on r/writing prompts and I keep coming back to it. I have tweaked it a lot and hope you enjoy. Comments and criticisms are much appreciated.) "..uuughh.?" Was all I could manage upon my reemergence from unconsciousness. My brain felt like it had been the last tic-tac rattled around in its container by an obnoxious toddler. Was I blind? Did someone finally hit me hard enough to not have to witness mankind's atrocities like pineapples disgracing the face of a pizza? Or people who wear socks with their sandals? Awesome! I thought to myself trying to be optimistic until I remembered I could no longer see chicks in yoga pants or cute puppies in bowties. Great! Now I was sad again and still sparring with the swelling of my skull. How did I get blind? I was walking home and... I mean... shit happens, but.. fuck! Just then an auto-tuneish sounding voice came over a speaker saying, "You've got 30 minutes to kill them, or else..." I was beginning to wish I could see what the literal fuck was up when the lights came on and blinded that wish away *reeeaaalll* fucking quick. After the initial sting of the light, I noticed a freaked out looking dude with the specter of tears still haunting his cheeks holding a club with what could only be barbed wire wrapped around it. He was looking at an equally scared looking woman about ten feet away from me. The room? Or... bunker? Well, whatever disgusting place this was was lit by suspended fluorescent lights that obviously cast their flickery glow on countless horrors. The stains on the walls were probably not from salsa. Although, I *REAAALLLY* hoped it was salsa stains.. Oh boy. Oh boyohboyohboy. I. Did. NOT. Like this image. "You can make it dark again, please!" I half yelled while trying to change my sitting arrangement from 'finkle' position to 'dontcomeoverherebecauseimready' position, whatever that looked like. I would decide when my feet were lower than my ass.. "WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE!?" Cried Clubby-Boi, he was looking around frantically and beginning to notice there were about four of us total in this room. The woman from before seemed a middle-aged business woman still in her shoulder-padded magenta suit. There was a black guy with a button-up shirt and a really sweet fade. He must have just left the barber shop because, damn! And then there was a.. maybe not morbidly obese, but he was about two Big Macs away from riding in a rascal, white guy in maybe his mid twenties. "PLEASE! Don't hurt me, I have children!" Cried the business lady. She was wearing the clothes for power but she wasn't looking like a queen bee of business just now. "I *sniff* dont.. want to hurt anyone.." Clubby-Boi sputtered out trying and failing to not breathe life back into his tears. His cheeks were flooded again by them as he pressed on, "But... the voice commands.. *sniff* and I have to... do it.." "Hey! Whoa whoa hol'up a minute, man. I'm not about to die today. I got shit to do tomorrow." Spoke the fresh-fade dude rising to his feet and rubbing his head. "I have to agree with him, dude. I have a doggo at home, and who will explain to him how I just left my best pooch at home and never came back. His name i-.." "NO!! No fucking names, it makes it harder to do this!" "My name is Perry, then, Perry with a fucking y at the end, bro!" I said boisterously and with gusto. "I am Libby!" Shrieked the business woman also seizing the opportunity. "Also with a y, if it helps." I chuckled at that, trying to distract myself from the gravity of things. "Carlos." Said haircut man, "without a y." He said and stuffed his hands into his pockets with a defiant looking shrug. "J-J-J-John!" Said the big man. "With a j." "Th-th-th-thanks, John." I said sarcastically before I really thought about it. I always lost more and more filter when I was nervous. It got quiet for a moment and John shrank himself into a even more pitiful stance. "Sorry, it's just we had this whole 'y' thing going and you fucked it all up with your introduction, J-" "SHUT UP!" Cried the sad man with the club. His booming voice reverberated around the room like a forlorn echo demanding obedience which we readily gave considering his advantage. "You guys don't get it.. I HAVE to kill you, too. I have to do whatever he says or he will kill all of us." "How do you know that? ...What if at the end of the thirty minutes, he just opens a door and we are let free?" Libby ventured trying to reason with this scared man. "What's your name, honey?" "Henry.. *sniff* and he HAS to at the end. Why else would he say 'or else' at the end? We almost waited the whole time last time before that... BITCH went crazy on us." He said as he gazed upon the floor, but you could see he was actually looking at something far more grim than this terribly textured linoleum floor. He was seeing the last shit show this room bore witness to. "We convinced her to stay calm, and in the last minute...*sob* she started swinging on us." More tears watered the fields of his cheeks as he tried to continue, "after the other two were.. gone.. I managed to snatch this from her.. and end it.. I dont know what happens if we wait... but I can't go back to my normal life now! Ive..Ive..I've killed someone." "Sounds like self-defense to me, man. Wouldn't nobody blame you for it. Especially if you had us with you to explain what happened and all." Said Carlos diplomatically. "Ain't no need to kill anybody, man." "Y-Y-Y-Yeah! We-We could stick together and if he does come in and try to k-k-k-k-kill us. We-We could fight together." Said John straightening his posture a bit looking more confident now. "Oh yeah! Teamwork makes the dream work, Henry-boi. Don't kill us, and we won't kill you, I think is a very fair trade, an agreement we should ALL enjoy the benefits of, really." "Why dont we just put that club down and sit together to wait this out? Learn a little about each other, huh?" Libby offered in the best god-damned mom-voice ever. Just as it seemed Henry's grip was loosening on the barbed-wire club that same auto-tuned voice came back over the intercom and said, "If you guys don't kill each other until the last man is standing, I will kill all of you." I looked up and saw the intercom speaker and an array of cameras lining the walls. "Ah! Well! That puts a damper on this whole friendship I felt we were working towards huh fellas?" I said as we all started reacting in our own way. Henry gripped his club tighter and his face darkened as another tear threatened escape from its' source. A tense few seconds passed. Carlos' hands left his pockets and he looked back and forth between us all. John looked like he was about to shit himself, and Libby lowered her head and softly started weeping. My mind spun to how much I hate salsa. And questioning if I had it in me to actually *make* salsa. "I got shit to do tomorrow." Carlos stated matter-of-factly as he rushed Henry. A smacking sound reverberated the walls and three screams erupted as my thoughts drifted homeward to my puppy, Bilbo, at home. I rescued him. Fed him from a bottle. I was all he knew and all he had. My fists clenched until my nails broke skin. I gazed up at the carnage unfolding before me. I put all of my jokes aside and prepared to do whatever it took to come home to that sweet pupper. Damn the consequences. This sadistic fuck wanted a show, and like it or not, I was cast a lead role in this improv horror. "Break a leg.