"I'm drowning in spagetthi!" Those were probably the last words of Darrith Nolik. And those were probably the last words before commercial break. Thousands upon thousands of tiny children and their parents sit in their living room watching Doom Hour with Mayzith Nightline!, New Canada's eighth most popular doom based show. I was also doing that. Theirs nothing better on. The commercials started to run.
"Maybe I DO need a Explosion Proof Vest!" I thought out loud to Charill, the little man sitting in the chair beside me. Any commercial with explosions makes me want the product. Theirs a reason I own Diarreah Proof Slacks. They were good investments.
"With what money, Garn?" Groaned Charill. In case your wondering, he's always like this. Because he's the only short person I know, I get to call his nitpicking "Midget syndrome". He stopped telling that i'm "constantly making fun of him". After that, living with him became a lot more fun.
"YOUR FACE IS WHAT MONEY!" I screamed. Yes, I become a pre-pubescent twelve year old on the internet. Sick of the conversation, I picked up the digi-news, and I see an interesting ad. "Hey, Charill! Check this out!" He walks over and starts reading the ad aloud:
"The Swiper Network is looking for contestants to participate in it's newest show, Bloodbath O' Doom. Come to 12345 Servos Street at three o' clock on Friday November thirteenth to enter for a spot! one hundred will enter, twenty will get a position. Only one will win. Per episode. So, yeah. Theirs only going to be one winner. I'm implying we're going to cancel this show very quickly. Enter now!" He stops reading. Swiper Network is getting sad. Anyway, Charill turned to me. "Wow. I always wonder how they pick contestants for gameshows." Strange. Why would he wonder that? Why am I wondering why he would wonder about that? Why would you care if I wonder why he would wonder that?
"Yeah. I always thought they drew names from one of those Lincoln hats and then kidnap people who they draw names." I know one of those are true. At least for Doom Hour. Hint: It's the second one.
"Well," Charill replies, "Lets find out." Finally. Charill agreed to do something that didn't involve me going to the hospital.
Me and Charill were driving to Swiper Studio's. We couldn't possibly guess what we'd have to do to get on the show, but it's probably something that would be interesting to read. Like a dance battle, or a pop culture reference contest. It was a long, long drive to Swiper Studio's. I had a long, long, long, long, long, long, long, long amount of space I had to fill before the next chapter where we actually GET to the Studio's.
Crap. I'm gonna have to pay for that broken fourth wall.
Authors Note: This was a fragment of the first chapter. I really don't want to continue it, but, hey, if the comment section likes it. I mean, the internet is never wrong. Right? RIGHT?