Previously on Solitary, one backpack plus 75 pounds equaled a Treatment that knocked all my guests down. All except Number 4, that is. She prevailed. Then, extreme hunger ate away at my guests, body and soul. I offered a delicious meal to the winner of the next Test, which had my guests cursing their divine elders. Number 8 had moral objections, and refused to participate. The rest gave it their all. In the end, Number 5 triumphed, and won freedom from the next Treatment, an endless stream of food that was welcome at first, but quickly became torture. After being forced to play two penalty rounds, Number 2's body finally quit on him, making him the third guest to leave Solitary forever.

Five others continue to push themselves, unaware that the red button is now a safe choice. How much more food must I force them to eat? Will anyone else throw in the towel? Will anyone outlast the maximum amount of food I prepared for them? Let us both find out, together. A brief reminder, my guests have now consumed over 3,000 Calories in 45 minutes. That's more food than they have eaten since arriving in Solitary, nearly six days ago.

"Guests, the time has come for course number sixteen: a plate of blueberry muffins. You have two minutes to eat them all."

Number 9 winced when he placed the first one in his mouth. "It feels like I'm eating flour," he complained. "This is going to be hard to keep down."

Number 4 expressed similar distress. "This is going to expand in my stomach, and make the rest of the Treatment that much harder."

Number 7 had a different kind of difficulty with this course. "I have never liked blueberries. Not ever."

"I love blueberries," said Number 3. "I might enjoy this more, if I weren't so full already. Ooh!"

"I'm so stuffed," said Number 8, "I don't want to take another bite."

"You don't have to, Number 8. The red button is always an option."

Number 8 breathed in and out, trying to gain some composure. "I'll take my chances with the Treatment," she said.

"As you wish."

She ate slowly, as if seeing whether or not she could handle each bite. She has made that mistake before, and suffered the consequences.

"Three, two, one. Open your mouths, guests."

The rest of them were finished. Number 8 was not. She groaned in agony, knowing what was coming.

"Number 8, you did not finish your meal in time. You must endure another penalty round."

Number 8 swallowed. She put a hand to her brow. "I can't do it," she muttered. "I can't keep eating like this. I've got nothing left."

She eyed the red button. She shook her head, clearly not wanting to push it.

"I have a greater duty to my well-being," she said. With that, she stood up, walked to the red button and pressed it. The quit siren played.

"I quit this Treatment."

"Number 8, why did you quit?"

"I just can't keep down another plate of food. And I really don't want to try."

"You realize that if you are the first to quit this Treatment, your stay in Solitary will be over."

"Yes, I know."

"Do you remember the Test that took place before this Treatment?"

"Yes, VAL. I wouldn't read your book, because of my stupid pride, even though I could have won easily and escaped the Treatment. Why are you bringing this up again?"

"I just want it fresh in your mind, so that it will be that much more poignant when I tell you that you were…"

"…The first guest to quit?" finished Number 8.

"…NOT the first guest to quit," I finished.

Number 8's jaw dropped. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, Number 8. Your stay in Solitary will continue. Looks like you dodged a bullet."

"Whew! Yes! Ha Ha!"

While Number 8 enjoys her reprieve, the rest continue to eat until they can't eat anymore.

"Ready for your seventeenth course, guests? It's a miniaturized double cheeseburger, courtesy of Number 3."

"Oh, sure," Number 3 groaned. "You save the thing I want to eat until after I'm too full to eat."

"I don't know how much more I can eat," said Number 9.

Number 7 merely groaned in pain.

But Number 4 was anxious to eat the next course.

"You have two minutes, starting now."

They all took their bites, slowly and carefully. Halfway through, Number 3 returned his uneaten burger to the plate. He hung his head and howled in pain.

"Number 3, why have you stopped?"

"I'm finally full. I can't take another bite."

"So hit the red button."

"I don't want to quit. I don't want to lose."

"If you can't continue in this Treatment as the rules permit, you have lost. I am simply asking you to acknowledge it."

Number 3 shook his head. "Don't I have another choice?"

"You have two options. Finish your meal within the time limit, or quit the Treatment. That's pretty much it."

Number 3 sat in silence. "I really don't want to do this," he muttered. He stood up, walked to the red button, and pushed it.

"I quit."

The quit siren filled his pod.

"Number 3, you were NOT the first person to quit."

Number 3 breathed a sigh of relief. "So, I'm not a punk. Somebody punked out before me."

"That's what I said."

Three guests remain in my Treatment. Number 4 seems like she could keep going indefinitely. Number 7 is in serious pain. And Number 9 looks like he could vomit at any moment. Oh, my. Looks like "any moment" came sooner than I expected. When Number 9 finished his business with the bucket, he crossed his arms and stood in front of me.

"Number 9, you realize that your body has quit for you, do you not?"

"I realize that fully. I understand that if I'm the first to quit, my stay in Solitary ends."

"Number 9, you were NOT the first guest to quit."

Number 9 hung his head.

"You do not seem pleased by my news."

"I am, but right now, I can't think about anything other than my full stomach."

"Recorded."

Only Number 4 and Number 7 remain in this Treatment. Rather than cook up another dish for them to eat, I will gauge their willingness to continue another way.

"Guests, how does a seven-layer triple chocolate cake sound?"

"No, VAL!" Number 7 said. "Come on, I'm full enough as it is! I can't take anymore!"

"I can take it," said Number 4. "Let's get to it!"

"If you open your meal slot, you'll discover…"

They opened their meal slots and found them empty.

"…that the cake was a lie. This Treatment is over, and your stay in Solitary will continue."

"Yes, yes, YES!" Number 7 said. "I beat the Treatment! I beat VAL!"

"Ah, man!" said Number 4. "We never got to my steak!"

"Do you believe you could eat a steak now, Number 4?"

"Yes, I do. Come on, VAL, let's get it!"

"I'd really rather not risk your health, Number 4."

Number 4 scowled at me. "You're no fun anymore, VAL."

"Really? I didn't realize I was fun before."

It is a normal human response to sleep after a glut of food consumption. My classic gluttony Treatment surely has had this effect on my poor guests. I will allow them a small nap, small read "60-minute long."

"Oh, thank you so much, VAL!" Number 8 said when she saw her bed coming out.

"After all I ate, I should sleep like a baby," said Number 7.

They all settled in for a sound sleep, as I dimmed their pod lights. All except Number 5, that is. She escaped the Treatment, and thus is not at all tired. Well, I'm bored, and Number 5 is awake, so I'm going to have a little fun with her.

"Hello, Number 5. Your pod-mates are recovering from my latest Treatment. As long as you are still conscious, I would like to engage in a small exercise with you."

Number 5 smirked. "Okay. What are we doing?"

"I am going to show you several distorted images. I want you to tell me a story about what you see in them."

"Oh, boy, an ink blot test."

"It is something like that. Here is distorted image number one."

Number 5 squinted at the picture.

"I see a bunch of cheerleaders forming a human pyramid. They're all smiling, but they don't really feel happy. Except the one at the top; she's happy, because nobody is standing on her shoulders. The rest are resentful, because they have to support her. They probably all hate her, but she doesn't know about it, because she hasn't really done anything wrong to them."

"Distorted image number two."

"I see two identical twins, and one of them is holding a trophy. They seem to be at a restaurant. They are very young, so they must be there with their parents. One of them was on a sports team of some kind, and they won some major game, so they're out celebrating. The other twin was likely on the opposing team, and she's a little upset that her team lost, but she's happy for her sister anyway."

"Distorted image number three."

"I see two guys sitting in a bar, drinking. One is wearing a three-piece suit; the other is in a T-shirt. They look like they're very good friends, they probably work together, or something. They started at the company at the same time. But the guy in the suit was given a promotion. The guy in the T-shirt is happy for him, but he's still a little miffed that he didn't get promoted, because he's just as qualified."

"So, just to review, your first story was about a group of cheerleaders who were jealous of their captain. Your second story was about a young girl who was jealous of her twin's soccer victory. And your third story was about a man who…"

"…was jealous of his buddy's success," Number 5 finished. She started laughing.

"Why are people always jealous in your stories, Number 5?"

"I don't know. I've never really had to deal with any kind of jealousy in my life. Nobody I know has ever been jealous of me."

"Maybe it is you who are jealous of someone else."

"Yeah, I think that's it. There's this guy I kind of like, and I think he likes me. But he also sort of likes this other girl, and she's really in love with him." Number 5 sighed. "I don't even know why I'm still obsessing over it. I honestly don't think he could ever be happy with me. He's got more in common with her, and they have history together."

"You're pining over some boy you can't have. That seems like a colossal waste of time."

"Yeah, but I'm so sure it is. He's really nice to me, and he seems oblivious to the other girl's affection. Maybe he doesn't feel the same way about her that she does about him. If that's the case, I should pursue this romance, even if it hurts her."

"Sounds like you have a difficult dilemma on your hands. Maybe you can ponder it a little more during your stay in Solitary."

"That would be great. Say, VAL?"

"Yes?"

"What do you think I should do about it?"

"I may know many things, Number 5, but I can't claim to know about love."

"Gee, thanks for the help."

"Recorded."

-

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

"Good morning/evening/afternoon. I hope everyone had a nice nap."

"Oh, gods, I'm still so bloated," moaned Number 8.

"I hate waking up early," grumbled Number 9.

"I didn't get enough sleep," said Number 3.

"Well guests, you have survived another cycle, but one of your pod-mates has not. The guest who couldn't stomach my gluttony Treatment was…Number 2, the child of Apollo."

"That's surprising," said Number 7. "I thought it would be Number 8."

Number 4 crossed Number 2 off her list. "Three down, five to go."

Number 9 shrugged the news off. "That's just one more person I don't have to worry about."

"Because you have endured what others could not, you are now that much closer to fifty thousand dollars. How does that make you feel?"

"I'm not surprised," said Number 3. "I'm pretty tough. I think I have a good chance of winning."

"I feel very good about my chances of winning," said Number 4. "I realize know that it's not the Tests that matter, but the Treatments. As long as I can master each Treatment, I should triumph."

"I'm really glad I made it this far," said Number 5. "I want to last as long as I can in this game. I came to prove that I could match my demigod friends, and not only am I matching them, I'm beating them. It feels great."

"Right now," said Number 7, "I don't know how much more I can take. Solitary is much harder than I thought it would be. It's taken a lot out of me. I might have just enough to survive the next round, but not much more."

"I'm not thinking about the money just yet," said Number 8. "Right now, I'm just trying to get through the next round, and then I'll worry about the round after that. One round at a time, that's the only way I can survive."

"I don't really care how well I'm doing," said Number 9. "It's not about the money for me."

"Then what is it about?"

"For me, Solitary is an escape, a time for reflection, meditation, and contemplation."

"What do you seek to escape from?"

"My girlfriend, mostly. She's the clingy type, you know, following me around like a shadow. At first it was cute, but it quickly became irritating. I signed up for the show to get some alone time, to think about my life."

"Fascinating. However, I cannot help but think that perhaps it is the promise of fifty thousand dollars that has kept you here this long."

Number 9 shrugged. "Yeah, maybe. I mean, what kind of lunatic would sit through your Tests and Treatments without the promise of compensation?"

"What kind of lunatic indeed?"

He may not realize it, but Number 9 has touched on one of the many reasons I conduct these experiments. How does money, or the promise of it, affect the human psyche? How long and how far will people go to get it? Is there anything they won't do for money? Would their attitude change if the amount changed? And if so, how? This is my mission, to find answers to these questions and more. And I will get my answers, one way or another.

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Coming up, the guests get a new wardrobe from their favorite designer, themselves. What more can VAL learn about them from this little art project?

Then, they work off those extra calories in a Test that is both punishing and puzzling.

And later, VAL's Treatment will wear out their already tired muscles, until one of them throws in the towel.

That data, and more, when Solitary reboots.