Where else are you gunna go?
There's no way!
I'm gonna end up at the disco,
Make my way!
Through fist fights and stilettos,
To rock and roll, rock and roll, to rock and roll, rock and roll...
Jay ran as fast as his skinny stoner legs could carry him. Huffing and puffing from exhaustion he flew through the bushes for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, the sound of nearby gunfire echoing in the forest.
WHY THE FUCK DOES EVERYONE KNOW HOW TO USE A GUN.
Letting loose a war cry Jay jumped a nearby fallen branch, and fell hard, his shoelace caught on a twig. Smacking headfirst down in the dirt, Jay turned with annoyance to look at his shoe, tugging it in an effort to get it loose. Another gunshot echoed through the forest and Jay began to tug at the shoe more desperately. He scrambled down and tried to rip apart the offending lace that was snagged, sweat streaming down his face, his heart pounding so fast he was sure he was going to have a heart attack.
FUCK YOU ADIDAS.
His heart still pounding, Jay removed his left shoe, leaving it stuck in the bushes. Squirming around he grabbed his pack and hoisted it onto his back. Then with one nervous glance about, Jay took off once more through the forest, ripping noisily through the foliage with reckless abandon. He cursed as his foot slammed down time and again upon exposed roots, sending jolts of pain up his leg.
"Fuck! Ass! Fuck!" He screamed at the top of his lungs as he barreled through the trees, his voice hoarse and barely there after so many hours of constantly screaming.
The way Jay figured it, if there was someone on the Island who hadn't screamed at the top of their lungs at least once already they were probably either already dead, or fucking crazy.
Jay wasn't fucking crazy. Yet. But he had the sneaking suspecion that he would be soon if he kept running around like a porn star with his dick cut off.
Slamming through a particularly thick bush, Jay glanced up to see to his surprise what appeared to be an opening of some kind, a gate and... buildings?
Be still my beating heart, FOOD IS THERE!
Jay's stomach growled in answer as he bumbled through the brush and finally came upon the old rusted gate. A large sign overhead proclaimed the area to be a "Fun Faire". Jay had been fond of Fun Faire's as a kid. It was one of the only times of year when his Mother would splurge money and allow him to spend a day eating what he wanted, riding what he wanted, and overall having a shit-ton of (legal) fun. To see one on this death island was unsettling to say the least. Jay was still shaking and breathing hard, he bent over to cough and hack up phelgm. Looking down at the disgusting substance as he wiped his mouth with his sleeve, Jay for the twenty-second time that day (He'd counted) called Danya a fuckbutt.
Looking back towards the forest, Jay cleared his throat and adjusted his hat. He'd had no idea where he had been for the last two days, or however long it had been since he'd discovered Maria's body. He still shivered at the thought of what had occured, and had pushed the incident as far back as he could into the recesses of his mind. Unfortunately the recesses of his mind happened to be extremely shallow and again he felt the details bubbling up inside him and he felt his entire body shaking like a leaf. He'd heard distant shots a few times on his trek through the woods, and after two "Announcements" the death toll was hovering around 40. Apparently that was a new record.
On the plus side, Jay was not last.
On the down side, Jay was going to fucking die.
"Fuck you... woods! For getting me lost! I hope someone comes and cuts you down, and turns you all into fucking porno mags, so- so- then fat people will jerk off on you!" He spat in the direction of the woods. "Motherfuckin' woods! If I survive this, I'm gonna' burn down the fucking Amazon!"
Jay turned back towards the fair, his entire body still shaking. He gripped his shoulders as he walked, trying his hardest to still his chattering teeth at the very least.
Come'on Jay, come'on! It isn't so bad. No one's shot at you ye- well wait, Fatty John did. Okay it's so bad. It is VERY bad. How the fuck am I going to learn how to shoot a gun? How the fuck am I expected to kill people!? I don't deserve this! I don't deserve to live either, I mean- just what the fuck! What the fuck do you think I'm gonna do Danya, play? I can't kill my friends, I can't just shoot people in the face an- fuck! I should have watched more SAW films, then I'd at least be used to all this gore. Danya, what a fat fucker. I wonder if he has a puppet.
...They're gonna kill me. Fuckin' Sunil, wherever he's at. He pretty much made that fucking plain when I nearly headshotted him. Who can fuckin' blame him? But I did say sorry. For all the good that fuckin' did me. I wish this was like the A-Team, where people only get shot AT, not SHOT. I could deal with that! But- that crazy fuck, she killed Maria. And if she killed Maria, how the fuck can I expect her to hesitate when she's firing at a skinny ass stoner? She won't hesitate! I've got no fuckin' skills! I nearly fucking died the first night out!
Jay grimaced as he recalled the painful memory. Unable to remember how to start a fire, Jay had simply decided to go to sleep near a small creek, sans blanket due to heat. He'd rolled in during the night and banged his head off a rock, nearly awakening everyone in the forest with his cries. The second night had been no better. Camping on a hill, wrapped in a blanket, Jay had rolled off down a slope and smacked chest first into a tree. A fatal combination of pain and constant annoying as fuck bugs had kept him up nearly the entire night.
I can't even take a shit with the cameras watching me! Where the fuck am I going to dropa' deuce anyway? Did Danya just expect that 200 kids on an Island wouldn't take a shit? He could have at least put a few restrooms around!
Jay laughed bitterly as he made his way through the fair ground, shaking like a leaf.
"Someone's gonna kill meeeeeeee, someone's going to keeeel meeeeee...." He said to no one in particular as he stared around. The faire seemed unusually quite, strange considering the amount of noise he had been making. Had he scared everyone off? Jay highly doubted he could scare anyone off. Jay had done quite a lot of thinking over the past three days. He'd thought about his parents. He'd thought about his killer, and who would win Survival of the Fittest. He thought about shoving a large stick up Danya's ass. Mostly he thought about Maria Santiago and Sasha Grey kissing. On an Island devoid of comforts, all Jay could rely on it seemed were Lesbians.
Jay was suddenly aware of a sticky underfoot. Looking down, he saw to his suprise his sock, coated in blood.
Oh, shit. Did I step on a nail?
Raising his foot for a better look, Jay saw to his relief that it was not the case. He'd simply walked in a pool of blood.
Oh well, that IS a relie- wait what.
Looking up, to his growing horror Jay realized that the puddle of blood wasn't a puddle. It was a lake. And laying nearby, was a decapitated body. Jay stood staring at the decapitated corpse, his sock and shoe soaked with the boy's blood. It had been a boy he was relatively sure. The head was nowhere to be found. He stumbled back, letting out a terrified yelp. He grabbed his arms and holding them close against his chest he began to shake, looking at the terrifying scene.
"Holy shit! Dude! Are you okay!?" He said, his voice shrill and high. Jay began to jump around shrieking nonsense, his eyes wide with fright.
That's it! I'm fucking done! I'm fucking done, I'm out! I'm not gonna survive this, someone's gonna come up to me, all friendly and then BAM, headshot fucking headshot! Game over man! No more continues, no more weed, no more Jay Holland! Oh Holy Mother of Fuck, what I wouldn't give to be a starving kid in Africa right now! First they got Maria, now they got this dude, now it's Jay Holland! The stoner always dies! THE STONER ALWAYS DIES!
SAVE ME ALLAH.