CLICK. BANG. THUD.
The PRIMEcade is open. Has been open for several hours at this point. As various devices are spread equally through the biggest tent the Time Lord could find, it was earlier filled with PRIMEates young and old willing to try out the newest game–and the Multitudes would argue, the best–Anna Daniels’ Owl Hunt. Sales were made because of course they were. The nifty hit of nostalgia and novelty always attracts people. But right now with the marks in their seats watching, there is only one
(Many.)
left playing. Dispute the match with Johnathan-Chrisopher Hall starting very soon, they are not wearing their ring gear. They wear black and white zig zags, an optical illusion. The grip on the AA Zapper is steady as the bit crushed hoots and the flapping of wings come through on speakers.
Click.
BANG.
Thud.
She smirks. You take what enjoyment you can get in this fucked up world and whether it’s a real owl or a pixelized equivalent, it’s always nice to see them dead. Especially when they start coming after you. Talons out with that look on their face. Most of you have been around enough to know which one. Get them before they get you.
Click.
BANG.
Thud.
???: M…Da…ls…
Everything is static except for her.
???: Mr…Dan..els, …ur…ma…
There is a slow blink. A tongue lashes out to lick her lips. The random meaningless staff member is standing at the entrance flap of the PRIMEcade, trying to get her attention while keeping well away of headfucking distance. It’s not that the vessel doesn’t hear them. It’s just that whoever’s in command doesn’t care.
Click. A different one this time. To pause the game.
Anna Daniels: This match is absolutely meaningless. It means nothing and will help no one. Not even Hall. We will not humor him with our best because quite frankly, he doesn’t deserve it. He made that perfectly clear when he decided to use ancient rent-an-insults against us.
This is said to no one in particular as the AA Zapper is gently sat down.
Anna Daniels: However, there is one thing he said amongst the boring, lame ass chucklefuck nonsense that everybody else says that is incredibly amusing. He thinks he wants to see what is inside of us.
A smirk crawls onto the vessel’s face. The lights flicker a bit. The suit is gone. The ring gear’s on. She strolls casually towards the opening while the random useless faceless staff member backs away slowly.
Anna Daniels: The problem is he isn’t worthy of seeing it. Neither is PRIME. Not yet.
The staff member runs off as Anna breaks through the light of day. Or night? It’s Cleveland. Not much difference.
Anna Daniels: We’re not running on PRIME’s or Hall’s timeline. We run on ours. In the meantime, feel free to skip this entire match and come on down to the PRIMEcade. Owl Hunt’s on sale right now.
We then cut to the ringside area for our next match.