NEW MEXICO. The nearest outpost of civilization is a good 50 miles away (a “Stuckey’s”). Desert surrounds the house, Murder Manor, on all sides.
The contestants having arrived thus far:
Seapunky
Eight
Cuitlahac
Doibr
krizteen
James
Ken
P.A.S.
And the new arrivals:
Last week got us off to a surreal start, and this week was no exception. First of all, P.A.S. developed explosive diarrhea after having eaten the food Doibr tampered with. He swore to find out who did it, but hasn't been in any shape to, since hot liquid shit keeps shooting out of his bum at inopportune moments. The smells and sounds he is making are truly more disturbing than any amount of gore could be. Mollie keeps laughing her ass off and punching him in the stomach, always triggering a renewed spume of steaming excrement from P.A.S.'s arse. And he's got it worse than most, what with the painful anal sores and all.
The first of our new contestants, Erin Havard, arrived the day after last week's segment, Saturday. He had brought with him some shanai and a boken, (bamboo and wooden swords, respectively) and our security decided to let him keep them. These are the only weapons he has aquired thus far. He holed up in his upstairs room almost immediately, practicing Kenpo, emerging only to eat, use the restroom, and flirt with Mollie and Krizteen. Once he discovered the food was drugged (one sniff told him), he announced he would be subsisting solely on beer, and carried three cases and a mini-fridge up to his room.
On Monday, Stacey arrived, a perfectly adorable little cutie, who took on a somewhat insidious tone when she slid a makeshift shiv between the ribs of Harv Nambers, one of our security men. She then tried to get all of her things inside, but we stopped her and managed to search her things. We didn't find anything worth mentioning, other than a few lacey whatevers from Victoria's Secret. Harv's lung was closed up in time, and he should be fine in a few weeks. She moved through the house, alternately glaring at and smiling at certain residents. She chose a smallish room downstairs, though she almost evicted Doibr from his (she probably would have, if she had made it past his elaborate defense system consisting of a precariously balanced bucket of cornstarch). After washing off the cornstarch and swearing quite a bit, she swore a blood oath on Doibr and retired to her room.
On Tuesday, Cindy arrived, rounding out our requirements of at least 4 sexy women in the cast. She punched a few of our security guys, then punched me, for no good reason. She was promptly tasered. After searching through her things, we granted her the smallest room on the upstairs floor and locked her in. She woke up unhappy, picked her lock, found P.A.S., and took it out on him, beating him mercilessly. She was only upset even worse, however, when she tried to give him an atomic wedgie and ended up with a faceful of stomach stew. She ran to the bathroom and threw up, jumped in the shower fully clothed, threw up again, then washed for 4 hours. Erin came by and introduced himself; she punched him. "All riiiight," said Erin.
Today, Spinnwebe got here. We don't know who he is. He got here this morning in a Batman costume and didn't say a word. He had no luggage. He walked straight to one of the upstairs bathrooms and locked himself in. A contestant, James Bondage, was scheduled to show up but didn't. We can only assume Spinnwebe killed him and took his place.
This evening's Hide and Seek was interesting, as it started just after the biggest monsoon of the season rolled through. Thunder and lightning abound. About ten minutes in, the power in the building went off. Our cameras are not equipped with infrared, so we got 25 solid minutes of perfect dark. A few whispers and mumbles could be heard, but everyone seemed reluctant to give up their positions, except for James, who kept loudly wondering "What the fuck?!" Suddenly, from Eight's room upstairs, there came the sounds of a struggle, some grunting, screaming and heavy blows, then the sound of shattering glass, and silence, except for the rain.
After the engineer responsible for buying the no-infrared-havin' cameras was shot in the face, efforts were concentrated to restoring power to Murder Manor. When the lights came back on, everyone was back in their rooms in various states of armament, except for Eight.
He was nowhere to be seen.
His room was completely trashed. There was blood everywhere. Everything he had hauled up to his room was there, except for the sharpest butcher knife, presumably buried in his corpse's chest. Eight's body has yet to be recovered. A dark cloud of suspicion fell over Murder Manor, as it appears we have had our first death, and no one to pin it on.
Now James will NOT stop saying "What the fuck?!"