Mission Four

Mr. Bennet quickly and heroically makes his way through the obstacle course....

Ah, an obstacle course! All Primatech Paper Salesman are put through a similar course (Of course, Primatech's has a Pit of Rabid Tibetan Felines and poo-flinging Radical Wheat Monkeys). I had an advantage in this challenge. As the only paper salesman, I'm likely the only one here that has actually completed an obstacle course.

I felt sorry for the wheelchair guy, though. But only for a moment. After that, I was thrilled he was on the opposing team.

On the starting line, I yelled over at Baldy, "Break a leg!" I admit, my seemingly sportsman-like wishing of good luck was actually a cleverly disguised insult. The key in competition is to weakn your enemy. Demoralizing the crippled would only make him drag further behind!

The obstacle course was underway. Wheelchair Guy took off with more-than-handicapable speed. "Whaaaa??"

I made my way through the obstacle course. The first obstacle....trenches! Easy! I mean, all they are really are glorified ditches.

The flamethrowers, however, proved difficult. Fifteen years in the paper business has given me an uneasy feeling toward fire, paper's natural enemy. But I ducked, dodged and even weaved my way through the fiery death machines. Not since my bachelor's party had I encountered such hot madness. (Seriously, the stripper had flamethrowers for legs. Looking back, maybe Quentin Tarantino wasn't the best planner for the event.)

What now? Malaysian Tiger Traps! Ha! I laugh at the pain-invoking contraptions. Last time I checked, I wasn't a Malaysian Tiger. I ran across the traps with ease.

Until I triggered one.

After a few minutes of crying, I managed to escape the traps. But I had lost a lot of time, I had to ketchup! So, I took off running. I ran and ran and jogged at a quick pace, then I realized I was in quicksand! I wasn't going anywhere, just running in place. Gah!

I pulled out a few reams of paper and built a path over the quicksand. Finally, I was near the finish. Only one thing remained. Scandinavian Yak Traps!

Now, last time I checked I wasn't a Scandinavian Yak. So, I too-wait a minute! I caught myself just in time. Thinking back to the so-called Malaysian Tiger Traps, I realized that Jon had purposely deceived us with fancy trap names. They're not Scandinavian Yak or Malaysian Tiger traps, they're Anything That Touches Them Traps! And I was certainly a potential anything.

So, I cleverly went around the trap field and crossed the finish line unscathed! Well, maybe a little scathed. Let's go with minutely scathed. That works....

So, I cleverly went around the trap field and crossed the finish line minutely scathed! Yay!

Haxor_Rims has Logged In

Thompson entered my cell. "Listen, Bennet, we need you to do something for us. You see, you may not realize this, but The Company has a very negative reputation in the eyes of the public. Well, those few eyes that we neglected to pluck from the heads of those who stumbled upon our operation, that is. And so we need you to do one last job."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because if you don't, we can revoke your pension."

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, yes we would. You can say goodbye to your dreams of yachting off the coast of Malibu."

"Not Malibu! You can't take that away from me. I've given everything to this company!"

"What about Claire?"

"I mean...Not Malibu! You can't take that away from me. I've given mostly everything to this company!"

"Don't you want to hear what the job is first?"

"Unless it's participating in a sequel to a lame reality show in an effort to claim the ultimate prize and title for Primatech, I'm not interested!"

"Hmm...well we were planning to have you host an environmental banquet for us, but that sounds much more important. Consider yourself a participant in the next Last Gladiator Standing!"

"But out of the thousands of applicants..."

"There's only like 20."

"Spanning the entire Universe..."

"The Universe is shrinking."

"With skills beyond that of any paper salesman..."

"Telepathy is overrated."

"What makes you think they'd pick me as a contestant?"

"You underestimate the power of a paper company. With the deal we can offer them on voting ballots, they can't refuse!"

And so I had no choice but to participate. I had no idea what awaited me. What would it require to win? What is my plan for success? Are there weapons of mass destruction?

These were questions that would have to be answered later. Right now, I had to sign paper work. Lots of paper work.

Important Legal Mumbo Jumbo

• Intergalactic Gladiator Entertainment is not liable for any death or injury during the competition
  
• Death does not void your obligation to participate in the competition.
  
• Peanut brittle is strictly prohibited.
  

There was a lot more mumbo jumbo, but I stopped reading after that and signed.

Finally, I was flown in, Jurassic Park style, to Fire Island D. This was my first visit to Hacknor, and you know that feeling you get when you go on a vacation to a new place and think you could see yourself moving there for good? Well, I didn't get that feeling.

Hacknor was not a very lovely place, it seemed more like some poorly-conceived video game world. There was a peninsula, which I later found was called Fire Island 12, and it was a particularly awful place, at least it seemed so from the spacecraft. Perhaps fiery lava pools look more appealing closer up.

But I landed here safely and am now awaiting our first instructions. The rest of the contestants look pretty freaky, and I've seen some major freaks in my time. Let's put it this way, the most normal one is a pretentious pseudo-intellectual in a wheelchair (You can thank Mohinder for that phrasing). But I guess I can't complain. It's better than sitting in my cell at Primatech.

Looks like some mingling might begin soon...