Two rather useless randomly seelected weapons.
His inclusion in ‘The Program’ was the main reason for this, however, several other things had contributed towards his mood. The first of these was the environment that this installment had been set in. Previous showings of the game had been aired as being set in a sectioned of area of a city suburb. He hated the fact that he would have to ruin his expensive suit, squatting in some field! It wouldn’t be as bad if he were wearing a tracksuit or some shit like that, but these clothes cost money! The next, and most important thing that pissed him off was his weapon. Ordinarily, he would be able to make do with anything, but his was just fucking ridiculous! He’d been given a fucking saucepan lid!
Oh well… he thought to himself as his vision ran across the round, shiny metal surface. At least he didn’t have something even more useless… Like a spoon.
Clasping his fist tighter around the smooth shaft of his desert spoon, Male Student #6, Will Burrow let out a low groan to himself.
He had originally decided against buying into this game, however, after the previous announcement from Mr ‘O’, coupled with the occasional gunshots that echoed throughout the landscape, he eventually opened his duffel bag…. And found the fucking spoon!
He wasn’t cut out for this shit. Sure, he was athletic and all, but he was unsure as to how he would be able to cope under situations like this. He was used to making snap decisions, and he was able to cope under pressure (due to his employment in several theatre shows). He was sure of that much. But… he still didn’t know how to cope with this psychotic game.
Kill or be killed. Those were the rules. Rules he didn’t intend to follow. There was no way that he was doing a thing that the bald retard calling himself their teacher was telling him to do. Fuck that! The guy is a prick!
But there was still the issue of his ‘weapon’.
The goddamn, useless, fucking spoon!
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