Red Player & Yellow Player

As the lights abruptly flicker and surge back into power the doors of your immediate hallway swing open flooding light into the area around you.  The hallway seems increasingly an odd orange as your eyes adjust to the new light.  On one side of the hall there is a wood floored room with a large carpet in the middle as well as an arrangement of furniture facing a piano.  On the other side there is a large dining room table set with white table cloth and fine dinner wear.  Both rooms are otherwise cluttered with junk, riddled with bullet holes and splattered with the occasional glob of dried blood.

Red Player you see:

Yellow Player you see:

Purple Player

You are spit from a large cylindrical metal tube complete with flashing lights and high pressured hissing pipes encasing it like a cocoon of some sort.  The dank dark hallway lies before you as you crawl from your hands and knees to your feet upon the cold smooth surface floor.  The wallpaper looks old and outdated run with stains of perspiration.  The lights have flickered off and everything grew silently for what seemed like an eternity when the environment begins to hum again with activity.  The clanking of metal doors accompanies the crash of some of them swinging open.  Buzzing with the memories of that insidious clown in your mind from what seems years ago, you shake yourself to your feet and wonder what you will do.

You cannot see much ahead in the darkness other than one door appears to have opened just down the hall from you.  There is a soft warm reddish glow of light illuminating from this door way.  Other than that, you do not hear or see too much else.

Finger on the button

The clown puts his sweaty fingers to the switch and has a brief moment of pause, thinking to himself in a barely whisper; SOON MY PATIENT LITTLE SICK THINGS, SOON. 

Hmmm... Missed that.

Now that the light has resurged, I look back over the path I took in the darkness. It seems there was a doorway on the other side of the hall. I approach it cautiously and press my ear to the door, trying to hear any noises there may be on the other side.

It seems I'm in some sort of facility. I've seen doors like this on TV, and they're either in submarines, bunkers, or top-secret underground facilities. This one seems to be in the basement of some creepy clown-faced maniac.

WE THE PURPLE

The T.V. screen blips and then cuts to black for a split second. This drastic change causes your body to spam and your mind to draw to immediate attention. Your vision is now consumed with the image of an entire audience of children screaming with excitement. The high-pitch of their fervor is enough to pierce your ears and cause your face to a grimace. Panning into the screen, in an unnaturally close close-up, you see a jubilant face painted like a clown brandishing a large and toothy smile.

“HI KIDDOS!! YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS??”

The children heighten the sharpness of their cheers.

“THAT’S RIGHT … PSYCHO BILLY’S HOUSE OF SLAUGHTER!!!”

As you brace yourself for more audible impact the children’s cheering is nearly unbearable for you.

“OKAY BOYS AND GIRLS, I WANT YOU TO GIVE A NICE WARM WELCOME TO THE PURPLE PLAYER!!!”

The cheering continues its jarring drone and the clown waves the tops of his fingers at you in a coochy-coo manner.

“HEYA PURPLE PLAYER, IT’S TIME TO WAKE-UP NOW … ugh, why do they manage to sleep for so long?”

He rolls his eyes in an exaggerated way.

“WAKE UP!!! BECAUSE YOU ARE MY GUEST ON THE BESTEST GAME-SHOW EVER TO GRACE GOD’S GREEN EARTH. Purple, I always liked purple, you know when I used to play board games I always went for the purple, probably woulda picked purple stuff over Sunny D … WELCOME PURPLE PLAYER!!! WELCOME TO MY HOUSE OF SSSLAUGHTER!!!”

There is calliope music that begins to play in a wonky way as its exasperated and muted notes compete with the hellish high-pitched voices of the youthful audience. The camera pans back now and you can see that this clown is certainly middle-aged but has a certain limber quality to his movements. Around him lie large objects of primary colors set onto a white background.

He takes a great deep exaggerated breath while he makes time for a dramatic pause. Then rapidly leans back to his uncomfortable close up to mumble:

“listen up purple player, it’s all quite simple, quite easy to get really, find those items, find those fucking items no matter what, and you will be free, you will be on course to me, think of those few things as everything, your rights, what you are entitled to have, your LIFE, your LIBERTY, your PURSUIT TO HAPPINESS, and all those other things you gotta get along the way … you want what’s yours, you wanna own what is coming to you, you wanna be all that you can fucking be? ”

“I SURE FUCKING HOPE SO!!! fer yer sssake. I am the one that not only brought you here but essentially created you, I am you’re alpha and I am gunna be your omega so you see you oughta just stick with me and trust me your gunna have a GRAND! OLD! TIME!!”

His face has busted into an intimidating excitement and he inhales again exageratively.

“So yer gunna be a good contestant and stick to the game and give us a good show right?? Yer gunna play this thing through like a fucking Shakespearean comi-tragedy right to the fucking last scene getting them all in stitches, huh?? Yer gunna sing and scream bloody murder all night long??”

It is during this brief pause that you notice the children have stopped their incessant drone but you are not certain for how long it has been dropped.

“ALRIGHT, WERE BACK!!”

The children’s chorus of pain begins sounding again assaulting your ears from either side.

“OKAY, WELL WE HAVE GONE OVER ALL THE RULES AND THERE IS ONLY ONE THING TO ASK …”

The children and the clown scream in an ear-drum battering unison

“ARE … YOU ... READY???”

The final word is left with a pause lasting longer than the previous pauses in this conversation. You have a sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach as you feel you are being watched.

The television has grown silent and motionless besides the clown’s subtle sway and blinks. The pneumatic tube hisses and continues to slide in its downward motion. Your pulse throbs from the center of your chest and outward pressing at the very things strapping you in.

What do you do?

BLUE TOOTH

You have waited patiently, unobservable yet very aware.

LET THERE BE WHITE, AND HE SAW THAT HE WAS GOOD

You managed to continue down the hall way past a strange submarine-like metal door on the wall across the hall from you. You could get a closer inspection now the light has resurged. Otherwise, you can now see a avenue of directions to go.