GLHF

[Sh4dE]

((GHIII Gene Steward, Enter))

Gene wanted to find a destination, where to go, so he went to the Beauty Parlor. He could've gone to the Casino, but Aidan and Laura probably were there.

When he entered the Beauty Salon, he expected people. But there weren't any.

He was alone again. So he walked to a chair and sat on it. Grabbing his bag from his shoulders he put it on the ground. He then put his pogostick down, too.

Sitting there, he thought about what he should do, what his next strategy to play this game was. He stopped thinking about strategies however, when he saw a camera.

He rubbed his eyes. They probably were red as they itched a little. He didn't feel tired, though.

Well. I never had the time to talk to the audience.

Gene stood up. He waved his hand at the camera. He however avoided eye contact with it.

"Hey."

Gene felt a bit nervous, being alone in the room with the camera and speaking to it.

Now...everybody hears me. Everybody.

"SOTF Combat VI should have every contestant of every Season ever. Call it "SOTF Combat All-Stars". Produce it. Now."

The company behind SOTF Combat should watch this.

"Actually, fuck that. Just include me in the next game."

That way I'm immortal in some way. That won't help me when I'm dead, but...

"Hey Jared. Can you hear me? Or see me? Should I explain to you why I laid on the floor in the Condominium? I tried your strategy. Playing dead. I immediately regretted it. Dude, you were a sympathetic mentor last season, but I honestly think your strategy was boring, overrated and kinda stupid, as it was risky. Playing dead? I know this is a game about survival and I am sure you would be able to do that strategy with animals, but with humans? That was seriously a risky and dumb strategy, you just had luck the grenade killed all four."

With that little speech, Gene overwhelmed his awkward feeling, being on live TV.

Gene never minded if somebody watched him on stage, he never had stagefright but he was a stage actor, not a film actor. Acting in a film means that every little detail counts. He disliked working with cameras, as he felt like it would fake everything so easily. You can cut mistakes out. But here his mistakes won't be cut.

"Hey you Leo! How do you like your successor? Do you even watch this show after you have left it? Do you plan to be an S67 mentor? Tell me that after I get 9 more kills or am the last man standing, please!"

Gene then looked at the camera. Right into its eye. It was a good cam. It was better than the cameras in 2005. This one showed more pixels.

Fifteen years. This show improved so much in these fifteen years.

Gene thought about which celebrity he would talk to next, but then decided he'd probably do some service for the fans, so he pulled down his jeans.

"Oh, don't worry. I won't show you anything."

Still, Gene felt awkward standing there in a boxershorts.

Well, I wouldn't have been able to avoid spotlight anyway. Cams are everywhere. Else people would have better chances to escape. And escapes suck.

He put his jeans in his bag and removed his hoodie, he put on some hours earlier, and did the same. He then took his pimp suit and tried to suit himself with it quickly, as he doesn't want to be surprised by anybody while he was in his underwear. Not that it'd matter, as his clothes won't stop bullets.

The pimpsuit after all, was warm, was made for the fans and it is easier for team members to recognize that he's in their team.

After he was finished at "dressing" himself in the golden pimpsuit he finally put his fedora on his head. He put his bag on his back again and took the pogostick and leaned on it as if it was his cane.

So this is entertainment. Okay, I'm pretty much a solo-entertainer. People rather watch fights, but whatever.

"And we're all just entertainers...does anybody of you even know that song? It's fucking old."

Everybody's gonna watch it. Use this advantage. Who should I speak to next? Family? Nope. Done too often. Also, nobody cares about them and knows them.

"Well, I'd suggest a grenade launcher for an S67 weapon. And a drone. And a rocket launcher. Anything that makes boom is awesome. Bug is awesome. Everybody who disagrees can turn the TV off."

Okay. I'm out of ideas. Time to go.

Gene then smiled at the camera, in a friendly way.

He felt like he'd see into the eyes of the audience. He wished he could do that.

They can see everything. I can't see anything. The audience wins. I won 65 Seasons long. And now I get famous. They get entertainment.

"Yeah, I've gotta continue doing my stuff. Probably won't be able to talk with you anymore. Because, well...First the Game, then the Fame!"

Gene winked with his red-ish eye at the camera.

"Have a good show! Even if I die. Which would suck. But..."

He had no idea how to finish the sentence and looked at the ground. So he walked out of the building without a word.

((GHIII Gene Steward, Exit))