Okay, so. This sucked. This sucked a lot. JB wasn’t gonna pretend for a second that this wasn’t the worst thing that had ever happened to him, because, c’mon, what could be worse? This was the real actual Program that he’d found himself trapped in! Only one person got out of here alive! You didn’t need to be a maths genius (and considering JB had fallen asleep 17 times in his maths classes (he’d counted) he certainly wasn’t one) to figure out that the probability of that one person being him wasn’t very high!
Even then, what happened to the person who ‘won’ this whole thing? Nobody knew! They just kinda… vanished off the face of the Earth. Maybe they were given a new name and a nice, cushy role in the military for being the best dang patriot that ever patrioted. Maybe they were enrolled into a super-soldier program and given Ultra Power Drugs so they could breathe in space and fight off the evil bad guy aliens!
Or maybe, once they were picked up as the last kid remaining, they were shot in the back of the head and dumped with the rest of the bodies.
Okay, wow, that wasn’t a cool thought at all, pretend that one had never happened!
So, yeah, this was a dumpster fire of a situation. JB had cried already (just a little bit, nothing the cameras would have picked up), he had paced and muttered and raged, he had realised just how boned he truly was.
But, c’mon. The knife he was holding? Super badass.
JB had a familiar grin on his face as he trekked his way through the salvage yard, occasionally swinging the parachute knife through the air in front of him, or shadow boxing whilst dancing around on his toes. As soon as he’d picked his weapon up, he’d come to a decision. He wasn’t gonna let this place dictate how he was feeling. People didn’t wanna see JB the Downcast Worrywart. They wanted to see JB the, well… JB! He wanted to stay as peppy and upbeat for as long as he could, because that was who he was! That was who he was. He didn’t wanna lose himself.
And maybe if he stayed positive, everything might even turn out all right.
For now, he was happy to just wander around the scrapheap and fight imaginary bad guys. This place was freaking cool. There was so much abandoned stuff here! There was the usual things, like old beds and chairs and a bath tub here and there, but around every corner there was something new. A rusted out old pick-up truck! A dinghy with a massive hole in the side! A huge yellow shipping container that looked like a sinking ship! It was like something from a film. Here was JB, the hero, fighting his way through a crowd of evil soldiers, trying to get revenge on the tyrannical General! Swish! There went someone’s arm! Ka-bam! Punch to the face! Stab! Hole in your guts!
The only downside was that the place reeked of fish, and if that was the only downside, he was doing pretty a-okay.
JB stabbed the knife into The General’s dumb neck and whistled to himself.
There was a small sound as some debris shifted.
It was a whisper compared to Nellie's wailing scream,
as she ran at JB, brandishing a shoehorn.