John Doe had been sitting blindfolded in the driver's seat of a rusty little green sedan for a long time, waiting for Calypso to give the signal over the radio. He wasn't looking forward to finding out how it handled. When one of Calypso's little goblins had shown him the car, he mentally cursed himself for having the bad luck to get stuck with a shaky-looking sack of patinaed crap. He definitely wasn't looking forward to finding out for himself just how well it handled.
"You're cheating, aren't you, ya lying piece of shit!" burst a whiny, nasal voice from the back seat. There was a sound of a hand smacking the window in frustration. Another voice responded, "Goddammit, I'm no cheater! You just don't want to admit that I'm better than you." The first voice became very agitated. "Better than me, huh?" A gun cocked. "You asshole, you're not better than this bad boy, now admit it! You were hiding those aces in your sleeve!" The second voice began to plead frantically. It seemed to John that the goblins were pretty preoccupied squabbling with each other. He quietly raised his hand up to his eyes, and pinched the edge of the blindfold. Suddenly, the gun was pressed into the back of his neck. He snapped his hand down to his knee. "Motherfucker, you definitely don't want to get caught cheating. No doubt you remember what Calypso said would happen to you if you do." said the whiny goblin. Off in the distance, a gunshot rang out and echoed across the desert. The goblin laughed, "See? That's what happens if you take a sneak peek, so don't even think about it." John breathed heavily. He would just have to wait. He couldn't say he liked the way things were looking to shape up. He had no idea where he was, only that he was in a crappy car with a couple of gun-crazy goblin gamblers in the back seat.
Finally, a voice came over the car speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen" Calypso said with a theatrical flair. Gunshots sounded off in the distance. The voice on the radio grew annoyed. "Aw, for fuck's sake, will you people wait until I TELL you to take off your blindfolds?" The air was silent. "Good," he said, "now, I'd like to remind you of just how this little game of ours is going to play out.
"First, I would like to reiterate, do NOT take off your blindfolds until the signal is given. I will blow a whistle, and only then may you take off your blindfolds. Failure to wait for the whistle will result, as you have hopefully figured out by now, in death. Now, I would like to explain to you the rules of this competition. Rule number one: You may not, under any circumstances, die. Failure to follow rule number one will result in death. Rule number two: use any means you like to cause other contestants to break rule number one. Now, I'm fairly sure that none of you have forgotten, but the winner of this competition will be granted their heart's desire."
The radio hissed faintly as Calypso paused. "Now" he said, "I would like my assistants to leave the contestants."
There was a sound like a puff of smoke behind John, and then, the whistle sounded over the radio. He tore off his blindfold and looked around wildly. Fastening his seatbelt, he turned the key in the ignition, and the car roared to life. He glanced behind him. A pile of clothes and cards and guns lay in the back seat. The goblins were gone. He snatched the guns and stuffed them under his belt. He turned back toward the desert in front of him.
He scanned the horizon for cars. Two small dots off in the distance moved in close to each other. One of them erupted in flames. John hit the gas, tearing across the desert like a bullet. The surviving dot grew into a small purple sedan, running away from John toward another dot far off in the distance, completely unaware of its follower. Suddenly the car veered to the side and screeched to a halt, kicking dust and sand high into the air, obscuring it. John's car careened past as he slammed on the brakes. Gunfire sprayed wildly out of the dust cloud. John ducked down. Bullets clanged and pounded at the rear of the car. He quickly put his foot back on the gas and circled around the cloud of dust behind him. After a few seconds, the gunfire stopped.
The purple sedan slowly crept out of the dust cloud. John saw the young goth teen in the driver's seat, looking frantically across the plumes of airborne sand for her target. John was to her left. At the moment she spotted him, he had already accelerated, and a second later he rammed the driver side door, propelling the girl into the passenger door, snapping her neck. Watching her with focused eyes, he backed out of the side of her car and observed her for a few moments until he became convinced she was dead.
With a gun in each hand, he stepped out of his car and opened the rear passenger door. Just like his car, there was a little pile of goblin clothes, and a gun. Unlike his two pistols, one was an Uzi. He stuffed one of his guns into his pocket and put the submachine gun in his belt. He looked into the front passenger seat, where the girl's head was twisted towards him. He pulled the recline lever and pulled the seat back, and checked her body for weapons. That's when he noticed the massive scabs on her arm, the thing that she had been carving into herself with her fingernails the day he passed her on his was to solitary confinement. It was a name, Kelly. He didn't know what it meant, but he suddenly felt as though he should leave, as though the lifeless corpse in front of him demanded it.
He slammed the door and walked around to his car. Facing his own headlights, he saw that there were machine guns mounted in the grill of his car. He looked back at the purple sedan. The girl's car had guns mounted underneath. That's how she was able to fire at him so fast, he realized. He sat down in his seat and examined the dashboard and the seat around him. There was a hard metal lever next to the handbrake. He lifted it, and his car shook as a flood of bullets mercilessly pounded the wrecked car in front of him. He quickly put the switch back down. Flames sprang up from the hood of the girl's car, and soon engulfed the entire frame. He drove off into the distance. He had killed now. He felt more than prepared to do it again.