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"Fight for the million"

All of that effortless training is about to take it's toll with nine men after the million pound jackpot for survival.
*hmm, this sounds familiar*

Everyone lines up outside the G5 Grid, with a big shiny door behind them, they close their eyes, and hear these words, "You brought yourself into this, so don't blame me if you're the first to die! It isn't about money, friendship or prizes. You're all about to face the border between life and nonlife, without any Creme Eggs or bogies to munch on, without any Coca Cola or saliva to slurp on, and the one who is left alive at the very end will be the . . err. . .erm. . .damn! I hate it when you forget what you were saying. erm. . . Survivor, yeah, that's right." All the competitors, Microchips, Joe, Liquid S, Pringle, Ashman Bigman, JC, Ice Blaster and Badgerman look up, towards Twain, as he continues, "Now, you will all go in one by one, at three minute intervals, with nothing except yourself. Get a weapon, and a good vantage point. You will then hear a buzzer. Then, and only then, will you be allowed to start. It's all up to you from there. Any questions, guys?"
There is a long silence, and slowly, quietly, and embarrassed being the only one with a question, Microchips raises his hand. Twain sighs.
"This isn't school, y'know. Just ask the question as soon as you get it. Don't bother raising your hand."
"Oh . . .err. . ." Microchips quickly withdraws his hand from the air. "Is there a bog in there?"
"No."
"Damn!" Is there one which I can use before I go in?"
Twain doesn't say a word, but points to a door to his right.
"Thank you," says Microchips.
"Does anybody else have a question?" Says Twain, turning back towards the rest of the bunch. "No?" There is another long silence. The door to Twain's right unlocks, and Microchips pokes his head around the door. "There's no bog roll!" He says.
"Oh. . .just. . .use your sleeve!" Says Ice Blaster, getting agitated from all the waiting.
"Hey, quiet you!" Says Twain. "Just use your sleeve!"
"Okay!" After a few minute, Microchips emerges from the very small room.
"Are you quite finished?" Says Twain.
"Not yet," Microchips replies.
Twain sighs. "What now then?"
Microchips says nothing. He turns towards the door to the toilet and lets one rip. "Ahh, that's better!"
"Okay, Microchips. You'd better go in first before we have any more hold-ups."
Microchips enters and runs towards the nearest weapon, a Falcon 2, and ten runs into a small hidey hole just below the stairs and waits.

One by one, each person enters, with three minutes between each. As the last one enters, the whole Grid remains silent. Three minutes later, the buzzer sounds. . .

Liquid Snake wrote:
> All we ever do in English is Macbeth!

That's what I'm doing!

There isn't any point in the SATs. All it does is determinewhich group you'll be in for the future years. It doesn't have any effect on your job or likeliness to get a job.

What do you mean you did them last year, Bigman? Are you in year 10?

Liquid Snake wrote:
> All we ever do in English is Macbeth!

We had to study Twelfth Night, damn it! i hate shakespere, its just so bollo... ooopss :)j

Twain wrote:
> We've all got those damn SATs coming up then, which mean nothing at
> all.

Did them last year mate ! I got a level 6 for English, 6 for Science and 7 for Maths !

All we ever do in English is Macbeth!

We've all got those damn SATs coming up then, which mean nothing at all.

I'm also 14, 15 in August !


I've also decided to saty on for now !

Hey Twain, I'm 14 too.

AshMan wrote:
> yes but i'll probably lose....how old are you Twain?

I'm 14, I'll be 15 in October.

yes but i'll probably lose....how old are you Twain?

Yep.

And how about this:

When both stories are finished, we'll start a quick topic where people vote for the better story?!