Truffle sat on the opposite side of the sofa to where he’d woken, struggling to curl up on a plump pillow in his new form. He was worried about John, yes he’d won and that was fantastic, but he wasn’t the type of man to do well on a talk show.
John was many things, but charismatic wasn’t one of them.
Truffle had woken mid-finale on a thoroughly soiled sofa cushion, gunk and black ooze clinging to his flesh. It stank, in fact it stank so much that even he, a pig, couldn’t stand the smell.
Kesh shook her head playfully at him as she watched from a chair a few feet away.
“I think I had an accident,” Truffle moaned softly.
“No accident, evolution,” Kesh replied, a slight smile tugging on her lips.
“Evolution? Am I turning into one of you?”
“Possibly, you grow, you excrete weakness, you… lay in it.”
Jumping up, Truffle moved away from the gunk, ruffling his snout. He felt taller.
“Come, you wash.”
Kesh escorted him to the nearby bathroom and scrubbed his skin with a harsh, soapy brush. Truffle had never liked baths in the old world, but at least Mistress Anne was gentle.
Bathwater turned black almost immediately, emitting a diluted version of the same foul odour. Four fresh baths later, once Truffle was finally clean, Kesh removed a steamy mirror from the wall, wiping it as she lowered it to the ground.
Truffle gazed at himself for a long moment. He looked the same, but not. He was still pink with black spots; he still had the most handsome face in the land and his eyes were still piercing enough for someone to get lost in. He was just… bigger.
He was taller too, but he seemed more… sculpted. Like if Playboy wanted a model pig with cut abs and bulging muscles, they’d have to choose him. He was kinda ripped.
After his bath, the two returned to the seating area to find that not only was John’s fight over, but that he was the winner. Truffle was ecstatic, but this ecstasy dulled when Kesh explained that his boss would be a guest on the after-match talk show. John was many things, but he was not charismatic.
They watched the show all the way up until Joanna had been welcomed onto the set and then they talked during the adverts.
“That horned man is funny,” Truffle said, “he keeps calling Boss, John my dear… get it? Because his player name is John Doe?”
Kesh rolled her eyes.
“Human need be careful,” she replied ignoring him.
“…And a doe is a female deer?” He continued, unsure as to why she didn’t find it as amusing as he did.
“Getting audience on side good tactic, but also fine line,” she continued without so much as an acknowledgement to Truffle. “Impressing corporations, much better. Less likely to be killed by viewers, opinions no matter.”
“But don’t the audience ratings and views help the corporations to decide who to sponsor?” Truffle asked.
“In manner of speaker. More complicated than ratings though.”
“Well aren’t you going to sponsor us anyway?” Truffle said, “so it doesn’t really matter if no one else wants John, because he’s going with you guys… he’s going with me.”
“We sponsor you, little one. Human useful, he keep you alive, but ultimately he not priority. Probably expensive too.”
Truffle glared at the orc but she looked unconcerned. Sitting in her usual warrior’s pose with crossed arms and a permanent scowl.
“I demand that you sponsor John as well, otherwise… otherwise I won’t work with you,” Truffle said, throwing his head off to one side.
“You no get choice in who sponsor you,” Kesh replied stoically. “Besides, not done deal yet. Lobbying to do, bids to make. Might not win.”
“Even if you do win I’ll just do the opposite of what you tell me. I don’t work with people who don’t like the boss.”
“Doesn’t matter. You belong with us. We no leave family. We help even if you don’t want it.”
“Exactly,” he responded. “We don’t leave family behind. John is family. The only family I have left – well, apart from Mistress Anne of course, but we haven’t found her yet.” He added hastily.
“Can only afford sponsor one contestant,” Kesh sighed, her expression softening slightly. “But will ask higher ups for help for human. Best I can do.”
Truffle looked at her and nodded his appreciation.
***
John gazed out across the animated audience as the stage morphed before his eyes, turning into a more relaxed setting.
Neon pink still dominated the colour scheme, but the podiums were replaced by armchairs and a coffee table.
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Now it looks like a talk show, John thought as he watched the transformation.
“Great first half,” A.J said, striding over with a hastily flung towel draped over his shoulder. “You two really know how to put on a show, my ratings are going to go through the roof after this!”
“Your ratings?” John asked, shaking his head.
Joanna had wandered off to the side and was whispering conspiratorially with the triceratops. John eyed her cautiously, something was going on between the two of them and whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.
“…And thanks to you I’ll be asked to host all the biggest shows, assuming the second half is as splendid as the first was, that is,” A.J continued, though John only caught the end of what he was saying.
“Who’s that dinosaur talking to Joanna?”
“Jealous are we?” A.J winked, “I knew it, I can spot sexual tension a mile away, one of my more… useful talents. That’s her manager, John my dear. I doubt he’s a rival for her heart, I’m not getting that tingling feeling I get when I see the two of you together and my senses are never wrong.”
“Her manager?” John replied, he’d barely heard anything else the horned host had said. “Can I bring my manager here?”
“Well you could have, if you’d have asked before the show. What did you think the greenroom was for?” A.J replied and then sniffed loudly, “Oh… well I guess inebriation is also an adequate use of our facilities. Not like you’ll get much time for that sort of thing once you’re back in the game.”
“Which will be when exactly?” John asked, finally tearing his gaze from the conspirators whispering in the corner.
“Soon, my dear, soon,” A.J said.
“We’re live in ten, nine, eight,” someone shouted from out of view.
“Looks like that’s our queue,” A.J smiled, “take your places people!”
***
“Welcome back, folks!” A.J announced adopting his larger-than-life persona once more as he strutted around the stage. “As promised, it’s question time and we have a doozy of a guest joining us here tonight. All the way, via hologram, from the Jellyfish Collective’s battle cruiser, it’s CEO Jo Ren!”
The audience erupted into vapid cheering as a blueish hue flickered atop the coffee table. When it finally settled down a strange looking creature was revealed. It looked like an octopus had miraculously grown a torso and legs. Tentacles sprouted from the place where his mouth should have been and his eyes were as black as the night.
That’s not a jellyfish, John thought with a furrowed brow as the creature stroked one of its tentacles regally and settled down into a holographic armchair, opposite the two contestants.
A.J joined them, crossing one leg over the other as he took his place in the middle.
“Welcome, honoured Jo Ren, it’s so good to see you,” he said, a glimmer lighting up his devilish eyes. “I heard that the Jellyfish Collective had a whopping 250% profit increase this solar term, most impressive.”
“Yes, it has been a fortuitous season for us,” Jo Ren said, or rather thought. Though his face tentacles twitched slightly, though noise seemed to escape his face, the sound was definitely not in John’s head, it felt mechanical, like an odd twinge at the back of John’s mind told him it was fake. He had no doubt that this was a creature that communicated with thought and not words, yet words were what he was hearing. Was this the system’s doing? The same thing that allowed him to hear Truffle’s squeals as English.
“Thank you for coming tonight on such short notice,” A.J continued, seemingly unphased by the horrid feeling that itched at the back of John’s brain. Could he not feel it? “I simply had to make you our star guest of the evening after what transpired in the first round. How is Ka Ren?”
“His mind will take some healing, but he will recover. It was not his first time commanding an avatar, nor will it be his last.” Jo Ren’s black eyes washed over John and Joanna threateningly. “Your barbaric methods of slaughter were… interesting. Now that I understand human battle, perhaps we shall employ some barbarism of our own in the coming rounds. Your kind seems to enjoy playing with fire.”
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” A.J said hastily, a flash of concern in his eyes. “We don’t want to give away the game to our contestants here. This is still the first round for them after all and I’m sure we’d all appreciate keeping future events a surprise lest we offer up an unfair advantage.”
“Of course,” Jo Ren replied cordially, “forgive me, I was getting ahead of myself. It is so easy to forget that, as a member of the council, I am privy to information that is exclusive to showrunners.”
Talk about a boastful attitude, what an asshat, John thought.
“Please, think nothing of it,” A.J said, “now, would you like to ask our contestants some questions?”
Jo Ren’s eyes washed over John once more and if it wasn’t for his lack of lips, John would have been certain that he was grinning.
“I have but one,” he said, “how could a lowly member of a brand new, and lesser, race slay one as fearsome as Ka Ren? Why, if I did not know better I’d accuse the two of you of foul play.”
John’s eyes narrowed as he considered the octopus. Movies had prepared him for the eventuality of meeting supremacist aliens, but to have one so blatantly spout his doctrine on live television, with no negative reaction from the audience? It made his skin crawl.
“Perhaps we’re not as inferior as you thought,” he replied in a measured tone. “From what I’ve gathered, this is just the beginning of your little game show, keep watching. You’ll see what the human race can do. Calamari is one of my favourite foods.”
Jo Ren baulked, sitting forward in his armchair and clenching his fists. Gasps erupted from the audience and A.J seemed to be enjoying every minute of it. John looked at the audience, egged on by their outrage. It felt good to do something to them, even if it was probably just his spiteful ego talking. He continued.
“It’s a shame that your kind are too scared to come down to our planet and join in. Though I guess you probably hide in your avatars because on Earth you’d be like… what’s that saying? Fish out of water? It seems to me that you’re upset because we didn’t let your son’s avatar kill us. This might just be a game to you but real people are dying down there.” He stood up, pointing his finger at the Jo Ren’s holographic face, his voice getting hotter, angrier. “Listen up you octo-fuck. I’m gonna win this stupid game and then I’m coming for you. You, your coward of a son, and the rest of the council.”
Breathing heavily, John sat back down. Anger had exploded out of him; he could barely control it. He’d always been an impulsive, emotional drunk. Though his skills should have blocked that, surely. Idiot! He thought, knowing he was going to regret this later. Making an enemy of this guy was a bad move and he knew it. Though at the same time, it sure was satisfying.
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Joanna, she was staring at him, mouth agape. She looked pleased with him, shocked, but pleased. He turned away from her, she still needed to die and the last thing he wanted was to make that harder for him. No hesitation, that was what she’d said in the final.
“The gall!” Jo Ren exclaimed, “You dare challenge me? Let me gift you a word of wisdom, be careful not to confuse confidence with ability, human. There will be plenty of chances for my people to venture to your decrepit cesspit of a plant later. When that day comes, we’ll see who’s might reigns triumphant.”
Without waiting for a response, Jo Ren’s hologram disappeared and there was silence in the studio. Out of the corner of John’s eye he saw a smile on the dinosaur’s face as he gleefully waited on the sidelines.
“Well, that was quite something,” A.J proclaimed, jumping up from his seat. “Merely a single question in and you declared war on one of the most powerful races in the cosmos. How exquisite! Though I must ask John, my dear, what exactly is a calamari?”
