Young Writers Society

"Awwww!" Mel cooed, returning her hands to clasp them by her face with :tuck: expression. "Hey, you're not a bad guy. I knew you were secretly a big teddy bear. It just took a couple of funny cat puns to figure that out, huh? How... uh... cat-terious."

That was an awful pun. Maybe she didn't win after all. Who knew!

The voting theme came to a screeching halt and K.K. spoke out over the crowd.

"It looks like the votes are in folks."

Blinding spotlights snapped on Mel and Lordy, and Gulliver flew across the stage again, dropping the envelope with the results into K.K.'s hands. He caught it with a flair and then opened it with one of the nails of his paw.

"Ohohohohoho," he said, reading the results. "How interesting. I'm sure you're all dying to know the results. This was a pretty close round, but unfortunately and fortunately, I must announce... the loser is..."





All lights zoomed onto Lordy, pulsing, and then K.K. switched gears. The lights abruptly cut out.



New tunes started to blast over all conversation, drowning it out. K.K. took the mic again with a squeaky voice that seemed to boom with far too many decibels across the whole room.

"Now, for the moment you've all been waiting for!"

There was a long, mysteriously sourced drumroll that went on for a half-second too long. K.K. seemed to send a pointed stare in the direction of the invisible drummer, and they crashed out.



Resetti the grumpy mole then popped out of the ground, screaming. A pile of dirt surrounded him in the middle of the stage, and he started waving around his pickaxe-shaped microphone (or maybe it was an axe with a microphone taped to it, no one's looking that closely).



"K.K. you DIRTY *BLEEP*!" he screeched, flailing around his pickaxe. "How DARE you summon me without a restart?!"

"Can we bring in some Roleplay Realm magic?" K.K. asked the camera crew, nudging at them. "Turn his pickaxe to pies, please?"

Right on cue, poof! Resetti's pickaxe turned to pies. The mole paused to look at it with angered confusion.

"What the *bleep* is this?" he asked, disgruntled.

"Glad you asked, Resetti!" K.K. said, swiveling out of his chair to wave his arms in front of the audience. "It's the HUMILIATION ROUND!"



The chairs of Corrick, Hildegarde, and Lordy then swooshed up on the stage under their neon lights that flashed their names. Their chairs then lifted up on the ground with a mysteriously long spring that defied gravity until they were about 20 feet out of the air.

"Those who fail to pun perfectly - or at least fail to fall in the favor of the audience voters - will now be pied by their more successful contestants! Resetti will distribute the pies--"

As K.K. said that, Resetti seemed to catch on, and picked up the pies, piling them atop each other in his arms. Miraculously, with some type of cartoon magic, they didn't crush each other and stacked just fine. The rest of the contestants' chairs went up to the stage in front of the losers'. Carter and Simon in front of Corrick, Jerica in front of Hildegarde, and Mel in front of Lordy. He walked up to all of the non-losers and handed them each a pie.

"And from there it's pretty simple. We cheer them on as the losers get pies smashed in their face!" K.K. continued to explain.

Almost with repressed glee, Resetti dug (because the stage is made out of dirt now, yes) to the first round folks, handing one pie to Carter and Simon.

"You folks go first," he explained. "Go on, then. Throw your pies at the losers. This was how my father disciplined us when I was a wee mole. Don't be a baby about it."

He then distributed the pies to the other non-losers, telling them the same thing.

"Thank you for your contribution, Resetti!" K.K. chirped. "After the winners get their victorious pie-smashing done, we'll finish up the humiliation round!"

Jerica barely managed to stop sulking and get herself right-side-up in her chair before it stopped so suddenly she found herself standing upright, with a pie in her hands. She looked down at the pie, then in front of her at Hildy.

This was absurd.

Hildy barely even came to Jerica's waist -- what was she going to do? Get down on her knees, so that she could throw a pie at an innocent old woman? Get it all over the cardigan she was working on?

She snorted.

I'm not attacking an old woman with pie. She didn't feel bad about beating Hildy in the last round -- that was just survival instincts kicking in. But Hildy wasn't responsible for any of this. She was just another victim in this hellscape. And she wasn't going to attack Hildy just for K.K.'s amusement.

A thought suddenly struck her. Jerica looked up at where K.K. was standing, a bit behind the losers, in the center of the stage. He was still crowing with his egotistical manner, trying to get the crowd ramped up. It was clear who her actual enemy was -- and the tiny grandma in front of her wasn't it.

Jerica twisted her hand so that her palm was squarely under the pie, giving her enough leverage to make it the distance, then thrust her hand forward, sending the pie straight towards K.K.'s face.

The pie changed its course halfway, and spun back around like a boomerang, right back into Jerica's hand.

"Looks like someone doesn't want to play by the rules!" K.K. teased.

Carter watched the interaction as he geared up for his throw.

Corrick had tackled him. He had to get back at him for that. And if that meant throwing a pie, he would.

He launched the pie right into Corrick's face, and it went SPLAT!

Jerica felt her heart sink, yet again, when the pie came whizzing back towards her. She tensed, half-expecting him to throw it back in her face, but was perplexed when it landed in her hands instead. She glanced back at Hildy, then down at the pie.

I'm not assaulting an old woman with a pie.

The more they wanted her to do it, the less she was willing to do so. Carter threw a pie into Corrick's face -- which, fair, Jerica would have thrown a pie in Hildy's face if she'd punched Jerica in the middle of the round like Corrick had to Carter. But she still had no intention of throwing one at the little old lady in front of her.

Jerica turned and pitched the pie in the opposite direction of her, like a frisbee. It came back and landed in her hand again. She dropped it. The pie hovered just off the ground then slammed back in Jerica's hand again. She growled in frustration, then put it on her palm again and then tossed it in an arch, planning for it to land just behind Hildy. It zoomed back into her hands.

Jerica sighed deeply, staring down at the pie. It was a chocolate pudding with whipped cream on top. I can't throw it if it doesn't exist... Jerica glanced up at K.K. for the briefest moment, but his eyes weren't on her just then. She brought the pie up to her face and ate as quickly as she could, barely registering the sickly-sweet taste as she tried to eat as much of it as quickly as humanly possible.

She pulled her head away to get a breath and watched in horror as the tin started refilling the half she'd eaten. "No, no, no!"

She started eating again, but the tin was refilling faster than she could eat. And her stomach was already starting to feel a bit queasy. She roughly wiped the excess pie off her face and watched, defeated, as the tin fully refilled itself. A cherry appeared at the very top.

Rage and sheer hopelessness surged through her at the same time. She looked up and met Hildy's gaze. "I'm running out of ideas."

"Oh, sweetie pie," K.K. cooed as Jerica's stomach started to get full of pie. "Drop it like it's hot!"

He then looked over at the audience and fake-whispered in the microphone. "Remember, kids. This is what happens when you want a piece of me. I'll always have my pies on you. I can never be hurt."

He winked at the camera as the audience roared with laughter.

Mel watched with wonder as Jerica tried to rebel and failed, then noted that K.K. said, "I can never be hurt."

He, the talking cartoon dog, could never be hurt. Hmmm...

She looked down at the lemon meringue pie she was holding and then up at Lordy. If they didn't have their random conversation before the humiliation round that seemed to only come up from an impulsive decision in the middle of the night round, she'd probably be delighted to throw this at his face. But instead she looked up at him with a frown, refusing to pie the cute wittle kitty kat.

Mel grinned and then angled herself away from Lordy, pitching her arm back for a throw and throwing it with great force towards Corrick's face.


It landed on him with a splat.

She never liked that man anyways. Hopefully she'll never have to see him again.

Lordy gave Mel a nod to let her know he was ready to face whatever consequences he had earned. He was shocked, however, when she launched it at fire boy next to him.

He looked back at Mel and gave her a silent show of approval:

Hildegarde had been touching her spectacles by the temple, about to command Jerica to "swerve" (making puns, she could play along with, but she did not want the cardigan ruined) when Jerica pivoted of her own accord and threw the pie directly at K.K. himself.

Of course, it didn't hit, but someone had needed to try that at some point. To Jerica's credit, she then began eating the pie, and Hildegarde re-evaluated her opinion of the young woman. Apparently she really didn't want to throw pie at a grandmother. Or maybe she was just trying to rebel or test their host's power. All motives Hildegarde could get behind.

She also duly noted Mel's rebellion, and that K.K. claimed he could not be hurt. Unfortunately, it was probably true. At least they'd saved her the trouble of burning her own spell slots to find out.

She smiled at Jerica and mouthed thank you.



Then, with a tilt of her head, she nodded to Mel. "It seems she's solved the dilemma of whom to hit."

Lordy looked over to Carter, "That was a nice throw my boy! Glad it wasn't aimed at me."

Now that he knew they could throw their pies at whoever they chose, he started to rethink how much anyone else on that stage may have hated him. After all, he had just gotten the suit he was wearing, he didn't want it to get messy.

Mel beamed at Lordy when he gave her a look of approval, and then turned to poke Jerica beside her. She and Simon were the only ones left with pies, and Jerica obviously didn't want to hit Hildy. Who would?

"Hit Corrick," she cooed. "Do it. Do it. Dooooo it. Hit his smug, mean face. You know you want to."

Jerica slowly realized that she'd gained another ally for the sole fact that she refused to attack an old woman. Hildy mouthed her thanks. Jerica gave her a nod, slowly smiling as the realization settled over her that any of the other competitors were free game. She glanced over at the chaos next to her, then back at Hildy as she made her innocent not-so-innocent comment.


Jerica turned the pie on her palm again, looking at all of her possible targets. Carter was tempting. She couldn't explain why, but something deep inside her got homicidal every time she heard his name. Yet, he was one of the few people who seemed like he might be able to hold his own and that was a solid trait in a frenemy.

Of course, there was Mel, who was starting to get on her nerves with all the giggling. But, there was no point in making an enemy just for that. Jerica eyed Corrick. It seemed mean to pelt him with yet a third pie, but... he was already covered in pie. How much worse could it be to have a bit more? He was going to have to change anyway...

Jerica frowned at Mel as she poked her and then started begging. She briefly reconsidered who she was going to throw the pie at, since Corrick wasn't getting on her nerves in that exact moment like some people on this stage were. But she turned towards Corrick again and threw it into his face with a splat.

She looked at Mel with a smirk. "You're right, I did want to."

For a hot second there, it looked like Jerica flashed hatred in her eyes towards Mel, but it was probably directed towards Corrick since she also threw the pie at his face.

"Nice!" Mel said, hand up in the air for a high five. "You know, you're not so bad. I respect you for eating that pie."

Simon waited patiently as he observed how the other contestants acted with their pies. The objective seemed straightforward enough, since each of the "winners" had received pies and were lined up in front of their respective "loser." Logically, there would be a one-to-one pie to pier ratio.

Carter did exactly as predicted and immediately pied Corrick. Simon would be expected to do the same.

However, before he could act, he noticed the contestant on his right, the human Jerica. Her behavior was erratic, as she tried to throw the pie in every direction except at the human Hildegarde: the dog, the floor, the audience (possible). Before she had exhausted her possible options, she even started to eat the pie. (Simon did not think he could mimic that option, though he knew that pie was a delicacy in human society.) This introduced more variables than Simon had previously considered.

As he was still processing this additional data, he watched the bubbly human, Mel, throw the pie at Corrick before yelling out in delight. (Does have pie == pie Corrick?) After a bit of encouragement, Jerica followed suit. (It definitely seemed so, since 3 of the 4 pies went to him.) Simon also had the original obligation to pie Corrick, since they were competitors in the first round.

But Simon analyzed one final thing. It seemed that humans did not like being pied.

Hildegarde and Lordy seemed quite happy to have not been. They were smiling and laughing and enjoying themselves, and the pairs seemed to have a positive exchange from the absence of pie throwing. Simon did not want to actively damage his relationship with any of the humans here. But the pie had to go into someone's face.

Now that his pie was the last left, all the other contestants were looking at him, so he took another .233 seconds to deliberate his options. He decided.

"It seems I must throw my pie now," Simon said in his unintentional monotone.

With a loud creak he lifted his arm up and set the pie on top of his head like a hat. There was a roar of later of laughter from the audience as his face beamed with a cheeky grin, drips of whipped cream sliding down his white globe. It seemed the utility of putting the pie on himself was higher than pieing a human, especially since the metal would safely protect his processors from the corrosive sugar.

"What a twist!" K.K. giggled. "We love a contestant who can take some self-humiliation. Well played, Simon!"

The laughter of the crowd seemed to die down now that all the pies were thrown. Resetti seemed to have disappeared somewhere down the hole he came from, and the lights in the room started to slowly shift so that the audience was more visible.

"Unfortunately, it appears that Corrick may be allergic to something in the pies - an oversight on our part for which we are deeply sorry - but we can't be having deathly reactions! This show is about chaos and fun! Not death..."

He paused, making eye contact with the camera.

"So we'll all need to say goodbye to our lovely Corrick for now. Thank you for being our steady flame."

Corrick, who was still the most pied out of everyone, looked like he was scowling under the layers of whipping cream on his face. The chair holding him zipped behind the stage, and Corrick disappeared.

"Now, it's time to move on to round two!" he said. But then, the lights came on to full brightness, lighting up the whole audience and the stage so that everyone was visible.

Everyone in the audience had pies.



Audience members started launching pies at all of the contestants on the stage, and they came splatting all around them.

AUDIENCE MEMBER SHADY > Nailed Carter in the face!

AUDIENCE MEMBER ODETA > Hit Jerica smack in the chest!

AUDIENCE MEMBER CARINA > Slapped Lordy with her pie square in the side of his head! Cream pie, right in the ear!

The pies kept on coming, like a wave, until all of the contestants were drenched in the pie. The aftermath was an inescapable, sticky, sopping, creamy mess.

"What a lovely picture," K.K. said from his little pedestal, where he was safe and out of the crossfire, creamless. "But what a mess!"

At that moment, a little fox (who some might know by the name of Redd) stepped onto the corner of the stage, holding a comically large fire-hose. He aimed it right at the contestants, and a massive blast of water erupted from it, hosing down all of the contestants with just enough water pressure that they didn't get smacked off their feet but just enough to jostle them a little.

The water came and went after a few seconds, and before the contestants could register what happened, a powerful blast of air came from above, like a super-powered fan (or a massive hand-dryer) and left all of the contestants instantly dry, with their hair sticking out in various directions.

All of the contestants stood for a second in shock.

"Wonderful," K.K. said. "Now you've all learned your lesson."

What lesson that was? It was unclear, but the lights cut out, and the stage was once again plunged into darkness.

Music suddenly boomed across the stage, and the contestants' chairs quickly spun all around in an organized fashion, almost like a choreographed dance.

"Now that we're done with the Pun Battle and the first humiliation round, it's time to move on to the second prompt!" K.K. said as he danced towards the center of the stage.

"For our first round, our groups will be as follows:

GROUP ONE: Jerica. Lordy.
GROUP TWO: Simon. Mel.
GROUP THREE: Hildegarde. Carter.

"Get comfortable with your group, because this round is a boozey ~doozy~!" K.K. said dramatically as the audience roared. He brought his paws up to silence the crowd, which took a few seconds.

"Now, it's time to explain the rules for the next prompt. For this round, the contentants will be playing SPEAK IN QUESTIONS! Each group will be brought into a mysterious backdrop where they must only speak in questions. If they don't, they will have to take a shot. A shot of what, you might ask?" K.K. winked at the contestants. "Let's just say it's the magical spirits of the Roleplay Realm."

Chatter seemed to emerge within the audience, but it quickly died down when K.K. lifted his paws up again, like a conductor silencing an orchestra.

"Now, some of these contestants should probably go to A.A. Which is my cousin's name and they have great concerts. But these contestants will find that the shots are unlike anything they've ever drank. Everyone will find that their normal tolerance for alcohol is useless here... especially because we all magically have the same tolerance! Except me, of course. Anyways, if they reach a certain amount of shots, they are guaranteed to pass out, and are automatically considered the loser of the round. And you don't want that, because then they will go through a terribly humiliating period. The person who took the most amount of shots will also be considered the loser, but will only go through a mild humiliation period. So, take your shots, contestants!"

The audience cheered in response and the background behind the contestants dramatically started flashing.

Q & SHOT!

"Oh, one last thing," K.K. said with a smirk, looking at the camera. "I really love drama, don't you? Because in this round, the contestants might want to ask each other about this drama that will come very soon. Oh - you'll see."

K.K. grinned and stood high on the podium.

"Ready to get started, folks? Let me hear you say it!" K.K. chirped.

"WHO WILL SURVIVE ANOTHER ROLEPLAY REALM GAMESHOW?" everyone except the contestants said at the same time, but again, it sounded like garbled up white noise.

"Let's begin with Group One!" K.K. squeaked.



A bell chimed loudly three times.

Simon, Mel, Hildegarde, and Carter's seats quickly zig-zagged to the side of the stage. Jerica and Lordy's seats seemed to spin wildly around the stage until the stage went black and silent, and they settled in the middle of the room.

Everything went silent.

And then the lights showed all at once, revealing a completely new backdrop.



They appeared to be in a restaurant that was made for penguins, and although they were alone, they could hear chatter in the background. K.K. seemed to be paying the piano in the corner. Jerica and Lordy sat across from one another on a table in front of the piano. Each of them had a shot glass in front of them with their names on it.

"And now folks..." K.K. said in a low jazzy voice as his grubby paws went up and down in the piano keys, and a giant five minute timer started counting down from the ceiling. "The clock is a'tickin' now."