Hi guys!

So, this got deleted. Bummer. I've been trying to work out for ages how to make it legal, and I think this will work. This is something like the sixth chapter; it's the only one I have on my current computer. I'll get round to doing the other ones soon. Enjoy!

And be prepared.

Kara x


"What the hell am I doing here?"

I bang repeatedly against the screen, looking out into my living room. Crap. Why did I have to give Cheese Puff quasi-dimensional teleportation powers? It seemed like such a great idea at the time.

"Let me out!"

"I'm afraid we can't do that."

I turn around, and my eyes widen. A huge mob of characters are standing amongst the pixels, holding poorly drawn pitchforks. A flock of Mary-Sues, using the burning stakes to tan their legs. Crazy Hobo who Lives on my Street Corner, smiling insanely whilst attempting to offer me some kind of questionable substance.

And at the front, the eponymous Cheese Puff, arms folded (there is some kind of logic missing there, but...hell, I'm in a computer, 2-dimensional, and not getting frazzled by the electricity supply. You want logic, go somewhere else.)

"Cheese Puff! Please! Let me out! I...uh...have to do my homework!"

"You haven't done your physics homework anytime except five minutes before the lesson for over four years."

I'll give him that one. "What is it? Why have you stuck me here? And why the fuck am I dressed like a canteloupe?"

"It's a honeydew. Personal...ahem, fantasy of mine. Do excuse me. Anyway, we are on strike."

"WHAT?"

"You are making us do all the work around here. We want fair payment, and until we get it, you will be in here, doing our work."

"I can't pay you! I'm two food stamps away from rooting through bins."

"Well, I guess you're stuck here, then." Cheese Puff raises his non-existent eyebrow and waits expectantly for me to start writing. I see no way to escape. Reluctantly, I take the crudely drawn keyboard and begin typing.

Shit, I think I left the gas on.


"So, we are now well and truly into the arena. Your readers are now so hopelessly hooked on the monstrosity you have created which is slowly sending God into a mental decline (you wondered about the few extra hurricanes and tornadoes and stormclouds raining anvils this month, ho hum) that they have now been forced into evolutionary degeneration and are now crawling to their computers each day on their flippers, pushing the on-button with their noses and barking out their frustration at their wasted lives in a primitive grunt-like tongue. They are slowly losing the ability to read, meaning that they can understand your garbled writing slightly better than they could before.

Well, you started it; what's the use of only causing half an apocalypse? You don't get a T-shirt for that.

But I understand you might be a bit stuck for 'new'* material, so I have kindly transcribed a day for you, complete with the different types of character that you will not be able to survive without if you wish to create a truly suckish SYOT. I've even put in an ending for your SYOT in case your time in the asylum starts soon and you quickly need a way out of this. But of course, you don't have to use it.

Enjoy..."

*'New' in this instance in no way promotes the use of originality in SYOTs. Originality is death. Just ask the writers.

Day 5 Begins.

Katniss-Clone: Morning, _. Want to kiss passionately whilst I shoot three mockingjays for breakfast with my trusty bow and arrow and silently brood over my emotional struggles?

Idiot Romantic Sap: Hold on a second as I noticeably and loudly stomp through the forest (NOTE: It ALWAYS HAS TO BE A FOREST) to collect a beautiful rose for you, even though it is most likely poisoned, then fasten my limbs to a metal frame so I can become an instant walking shield for you, my love?

Katniss-Clone: Ooh, you're so romantic! Let's f*ck with canon by having an impromptu dance and professing our undying love for each other loudly in full view of enemies whilst I conveniently leave my bow in the tent!

Idiot Romantic Sap: That sounds like a brilliant idea! No better place for romance than the arena where we're all about to die a painful death! And everyone knows that the prime age for falling in true and irrevocable love is thirteen and a half!

Psychotic Ninja Career: STEALTH ATTACK! *battle cry* *launches self at lovebirds, slicing them to pieces with knives with his feet whilst playing 'Mary had a Little Lamb' on the clarinet and whipping up an egg souffle*

Idiot Romantic Sap: NO! I will save you, my love who I have only known for two weeks! *takes all the blows, lies in bloody heap on ground*

Katniss-Clone: I can't live without you, my love. This relationship has only lasted for two weeks, but already my fourteen-year-old soul has become so binded to you that survival without you is unthinkable. And of course the real Katniss Everdeen could never have managed in the arena without Peeta defeating all the enemies. Goodbye. *F*cks with canon some more by launching self off cliff*

Noon on Day Five, at the Cornucopia

Psychotic Ninja Career: I just killed the sickly little lovebirds. Now to go and take on a crowd of twelve tributes with only a paperclip and a cookie cutter. SPEED ATTACK! *disappears into trees*

Slightly Less Psychotic Ninja Career: ...Does anyone think we should be worried about him? And has anyone wondered about the fact that we're at the Cornucopia, the exact place everyone expects the Careers to be?

Adorable Kickass Mind-Control Career: Sorry, Slightly Less Psychotic Ninja Career, but the fact that at the age of twelve I can charm my way into a tribute stronghold and then slowly kill all the tributes with my trusty dart gun and unbelievably heavy samurai sword whilst blaming it on the other tributes shows that logic is disallowed in this arena. I am afraid you are now a liability. Sumo Wrestler Meathead Career; kill him.

Sumo Wrestler Meathead Career: *grunts* *smashes Slightly Less Psychotic Ninja Career with knife*

The 'Original' Career: Gosh, I can't believe you're all so remorseless and so obsessed with knives and swords. I wield the hichimichicarnapochu corkscrew adjustable-length mace/slingshot.

Adorable Kickass Mind-Control Career: Does that do anything special?

The 'Original' Career: ...It has a cool name. Now excuse me whilst I crawl into the tent and cry in guilt, because I'm such a stereotype-defying Career, I actually have a conscience! Oh, woe is me, I was reaped and, inexplicably, nobody volunteered for me...*begins crying and furiously writing poetry to express deep inner conflict*

Gorgeous Airhead Career: Duh, it's because you're so unique! Because you are obviously the first Career EVER in a SYOT to have a conscience and wield a strangely named weapon! Now to go and apply my makeup and format my Career outfit to be as sexy and impractical as possible. *flips hair seductively*

Sumo Wrestler Meathead Career: *grunts*

Adorable Kickass Mind-Control Career: *sigh* Weren't the Careers in the movie practically having a freaking frat party?

5pm on Day Five, at Unremarkable Hiding Place #384

The Hibernator: Damn, there's been eighteen cannons today. Must be Psychotic Ninja Career again. Oh well, I'm so going to win in this amazingly concealed hiding place! It's not like there's a bunch of crazy people controlling this arena who hate it when people hide or anything.

Gamemaker #6: I'll just point out their hiding place with this giant glowing arrow. *giggles maniacally*

Psychotic Ninja Career: Oh look, more of my prey. NUCLEAR ATTACK! *pounces and blows up Hibernator with a strangely fabricated hand grenade*

The Hibernator: Damn.

11:55pm on Day Five, at Bog-Standard Campsite w/Campfire That Completely Screws With Canon #5

Uber-Protective Older Sibling: You don't have to worry, Fundamentally Unskilled Pathetic Younger Sibling. I'll protect you. I'm sorry you'll have to go home alone, but you'll manage.

Fundamentally Unskilled Pathetic Younger Sibling: I don't want to live without you! *sob*

*Psychotic Ninja Career turns up and stabs Uber-Protective Older Sibling in back*

FUPYS: Noooo! *sobs as Uber-Protective Older Sibling kisses FUPYS on cheek or some other tenderly sweet gesture which will no doubt reduce the audience to tears, makes FUPYS promise to go home, and then slowly closes their eyes and dies, all whilst Psychotic Ninja Career is strangely just standing there in a sudden kind of stasis*

Psychotic Ninja Career: *cackles* It's just you and me now. And because of my amazing ninja skills, I will clearly beat you, so in the spirit of the Career arrogance which will ultimately prove my downfall, I will kill you very slowly and allow you plenty of chance to fight back.

FUPYS: NEVAAAA! *grabs weapon of Uber-Protective Older Sibling and, showing an impossible level of skill or perhaps just unbelievable beginner's luck, thrusts weapon through Psychotic Ninja Career's stomach*

Psychotic Ninja Career: What? No...I was supposed to win...*dies with look of shock on face*

FUPYS: *tuts* Haven't you read any SYOTs, moron? The psychos never win.

*Fundamentally Unskilled Pathetic Younger Sibling Wins*


Panting, I set down the keyboard. "Satisfactory?"

Crazy Hobo grins maniacally. "I think it's too sensible! Make her start over!" The Mary Sues nod sycophantically in agreement.

I sigh as Cheese Puff prods me lazily with the pitchfork again.

Looks like I'm going to be in here for a while.


So, what do you think? I didn't have a chance to do much editing-there'll be more on future chapters :) Hopefully this counts as legal!

Kara xxx

Next Chapter: The Fundamentals Of The Arena! (e.g. Arena design, mutts, etc.)