Boneass: OOCG Non-Tribs

I strut into the room where the Mememakers await to see my mediocre abilities, but I'm actually oozing with confidence sort of as I stand in the center looking around at the stations before me. Check out those dummies. No, I'm not talking about Lundy, that's just rude. The literal fake, organ-and-blood-filled dummies? God.

I smize at the shrugging Gamemaker, then strike a pose to the Lenny-faced before doing a runway walk over to the Blades station and pick up two daggers. I then make my way over to a dummy and whisper the words,

"The last photo in my hands...does not go to you."

before STRIKING this wannabe straight in the forehead with one dagger, leaving it stuck impaling the area. The hand with the other dagger then moves to jab the stomach multiple times, crimson red splurting out everywhere like a volcanic eruption. I smize as I do this, cause I mean you gotta look fierce while killing and/or torturing your victims, you need to look good for the camera at all times. I finish up by digging the dagger deep into the abdomen up to the hilt, then drag it upwards to get the chest and neck good and messed up.

This is the first eliminated contestant of the cycle, Tetrawizard's Next Top Hunger Games Mutt Model, Flemma the Green Furry Dragon.

Furries in my house? Ha. What a laugh.

Hips then swish over to the Target Practice station, I pick up a bow and arrows and aim at the next dummy.

"You have been eliminated from Tetrawizard's...Next...Top...Hunger Games...Mutt...Model."

Aim? Fire, muhmaw.

The arrow strikes the dummy SQUARE in the face, poor thing--but you gotta do what you gotta do as a host.

The second eliminated contestant, Shrekaline. I am sorry, but you do not go on to the finals.

Finally, I head over to the Strength station and get myself an axe then move to my last dummy. I take a deep breath, close my eyes, throw it to the ground and...

...bury the blade into its head. I yell out swear words and grunts of effort as I rip the weapon out and bring it back down upon it again, and all over the body. Limbs all get severed, the entire torso is marked with deep cuts, the face is...a phenomenal sort of makeover of death.

Sorry Konstance Flint, you are no longer in the running. The winner is, as per the usual, Ebony Darkness Dementia Raven Way.

With one more deep exhale, but this time of relief, I turn to the gamemakers wearing the hell out of this fake blood dripping all over my body, and bow gracefully. Another whisper leaves my lips after I turn away from them and stop in front of the doors, red-stained heels clacking over the flooring while I do.

"You wanna be on top?"

All in the name of fashion, darling.