Thursday Fight Night! [Ocfos]
Posted: Sat Dec 16, 2017 1:28 pm
Character Sheet
GNC SpaceStation - Home of Thursday Fight Night
"Hello, everybody, it's Robby Ruden here, your lovely host for Thursday Fight Night! If you're listening to this, I won my knife fight with John Madden's floating disembodied head, so we've staved off yet another megacorp takeover! That means we'll keep bringing you the death fights live, as they happen! Can I get a heyooo?!"
You're in the bar. Or, rather, you're in the bar that all potential contenders are shuffled into before the New Meat Grinder match - the traditional way that Thursday Fight Night picks out new blood each season. You can tell by the crazy amount of promotional material on every wall, and the fact that every holoscreen is tuned into the game. Oh, and the fact that they only sell officially branded drinks. They all suck. At least the official Thursday Fight Night Pit Girls - all clones, apparently - gave you some eye candy to look at as they served drinks and food.
Thursday Fight Night wasn't your first choice - you'd hoped maybe to get into an underground league, out of sight - but the sheer variety of options the corporation had in terms of what the show actually encompassed meant it was more likely you wouldn't be horribly killed, which was a bonus. Plus, if the pay sucked, at least you could cut it clean and get out of there without anyone really caring too much. There were always more jobs.
"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, is time for a new crop of wannabes to take to the arena!" Robby Ruden's voice is overlaid on rapidly cut video of the arena and past competitions. "its the New Meat Grinder, coming to you live from the GNC Cocapsi Arena! Cocapsi - the only legal cola within fifteen parsecs!"
A guy sitting next to you who looks like a man hatefucked a crocodile snorts at the tv screen. "Corporate shit." He turns his enormous head to you, looming almost by accident. "What are you here for, squirt? Fancy your chances?"
Spoiler (click to show/hide):
GNC SpaceStation - Home of Thursday Fight Night
"Hello, everybody, it's Robby Ruden here, your lovely host for Thursday Fight Night! If you're listening to this, I won my knife fight with John Madden's floating disembodied head, so we've staved off yet another megacorp takeover! That means we'll keep bringing you the death fights live, as they happen! Can I get a heyooo?!"
You're in the bar. Or, rather, you're in the bar that all potential contenders are shuffled into before the New Meat Grinder match - the traditional way that Thursday Fight Night picks out new blood each season. You can tell by the crazy amount of promotional material on every wall, and the fact that every holoscreen is tuned into the game. Oh, and the fact that they only sell officially branded drinks. They all suck. At least the official Thursday Fight Night Pit Girls - all clones, apparently - gave you some eye candy to look at as they served drinks and food.
Thursday Fight Night wasn't your first choice - you'd hoped maybe to get into an underground league, out of sight - but the sheer variety of options the corporation had in terms of what the show actually encompassed meant it was more likely you wouldn't be horribly killed, which was a bonus. Plus, if the pay sucked, at least you could cut it clean and get out of there without anyone really caring too much. There were always more jobs.
"Tonight, ladies and gentlemen, is time for a new crop of wannabes to take to the arena!" Robby Ruden's voice is overlaid on rapidly cut video of the arena and past competitions. "its the New Meat Grinder, coming to you live from the GNC Cocapsi Arena! Cocapsi - the only legal cola within fifteen parsecs!"
A guy sitting next to you who looks like a man hatefucked a crocodile snorts at the tv screen. "Corporate shit." He turns his enormous head to you, looming almost by accident. "What are you here for, squirt? Fancy your chances?"