At the old man’s order, Gabrielle ceased fighting the green skinned avatar in front of her and turned her

  attention towards the blonde bimbo with the fire powers.

  She had entered the tournament with her father, the most powerful man in the lower middle management of the Jellyfish Collective. It was strange thinking and speaking in the Earthen languages, but she was thankful her avatar could understand this primitive form of speech as her species had mastered thought communication eons ago. They didn’t even have mouths anymore.

  Though it was a little frustrating, and insulting, that their language’s closest translation for her species was Jellyfish.

  The blonde woman stopped suddenly and said in a mock tone of surprise “what? Isn’t this what we’re supposed to do?”

  Her arrogance served only to stoke the flames of Gabrielle’s annoyance and, taking a firm hold of her oversized mallet with both hands, she turned to the woman, a steely look in her avatar’s eyes, a nebula rotating in its iris.

  “You are courting death!” She yelled, “cease this nonsense human, your kind are merely fodder in these games. You cannot hope to compete against your betters.”

  The blonde woman turned towards her and for a moment her eyes flashed and a sadistic smile grew on her lips. It sent shivers down Gabrielle’s spine; she didn’t even realise avatars could mimic that feeling. The show runners had really outdone themselves this year, the fear almost felt real.

  “Come and get me then, bitch,” the blonde woman said, extending a single tentacle and wiggling it slowly.

  Though Gabrielle didn’t understand why humans had such small tentacles attached to their hands which were attached to a thicker, ridged tentacle, she did understand the meaning behind the wiggling and charged forwards gallantly.

  CRACK.

  A loud noise rang out across the stadium and then there was darkness.

  ***

  What do you mean I’m dead! Gabrielle thought projected, unclipping the conscious transference device on her company’s space shit.

  My sincerest apologies honoured Gabrielle, but it appears that an Earthen contestant by the name of John Doe shot you in the back of the head.

  Gabrielle did not scream, for her species had no mouth, but her annoyance was projected so fiercely form her mind that the entire colony immediately knew her frustrations.

  If she could have screamed though, if she was back in her avatar, she would have tipped her head towards the heavens and proclaimed: “curse you John Doe!”

  She missed her avatar already.

  ***

  John fired his revolver at Joanna again, she had stopped moving and he wasn’t going to miss another opportunity to kill her. A female avatar ran towards her at the same time, holding a huge mallet, and John’s bullet struck her instead.

  “Of all the things,” he muttered to himself, luck just wasn’t with him this day. He’d killed more avatars by accident in the past couple of minutes than he’d ever killed competitors in a video game death match.

  I guess Call Of Duty really is unrealistic, collateral damage is genuinely hard to avoid. I guess I owe Obama an apology too. I wonder if he’s in this game, or if anyone famous is for that matter. He thought as he continued to run around the outskirts of the playing field.

  “Cease this folly at once!” The old man avatar cried out, an angry vein popping on his forehead. “It seems that an entire army of military grade avatars cannot pin down two simple humans. What a disgrace you all are to your families, your species and above all, the corporations you represent.”

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Immediately the avatars stopped moving in earnest. Most of them had ceased their fighting on his first order, but now none of them moved a muscle. The arena went still as the old man spoke, even the audience had quietened to hear his words.

  John wondered if he was a big shot in the world of alien capitalism, and he began to feel a little silly as the only noise remaining in the arena was the sound of his boots slapping against the clear bottom of the stadium as he continued to run.

  “Male human,” the old man began but was promptly cut off by the jovial announcer who rushed to correct him.

  Ahem, it seems that Manager Ka Ren of the Jellyfish Collective is calling out the contestant known as John Doe.

  The old man nodded to the sky, showing his thanks for the assist, and continued.

  “John Doe, I challenge you to single combat. Do you-”

  “Ok,” John shouted across the arena, slowing to a jog and turning to face Manager Ka Ren, he wondered if that was his real name or a gamertag.

  Stepping arrogantly towards the old man, he kept both pistols drawn as the avatars surrounded him in a ring of bodies. It looked like they were about to partake in a dance off.

  Joanna was thrust through the ring by the other avatars, stumbling, she landed on her knees close by. John chose to ignore her, he wanted to shoot her in the head whilst she was on the floor but in a game that valued showmanship, that would probably be a death sentence. He didn’t need to resort to cheating to end her life. Her death was inevitable now that she was trapped in this tournament with him.

  “How brave you are Mr Doe, to accept my request so promptly and without thought.” Ka Ren said, opening his arms widely and ripping off his shirt revealing finely sculpted abs and a chest Superman would be proud to call his own. “However, I must warn you that I have studied this planets Martian arts and have had this avatar built especially for the purpose of maximising my Martian abilities.

  “I have watched the great masters of your Earthen fighting techniques and learned from them. Masters such as Bruce Lee, Jack E Chan, Hong Kong Phooey and David Lee Roth. I’m afraid that you simply do not stand a chance of besting me in the single combat which I have challenged you to.”

  Raising his leg, he began showing off some kind of karate move. He flipped over in the air, then jumped once more performing the splits in mid-aid before landing in a half squat with his fists by his waist, arms bent in a centred position.

  He thrust out one of his hands in a single, mind-blowing palm heel strike which split the very air in front of him, tousling John’s hair from almost twenty feet away.

  Behind John a few other avatars lost their balance and the air pulse that had shot from the Ka Ren’s palm pulsed against the barrier, causing the audience to gasp collectively as its shimmering surface cascaded outwards from the area of impact in perfectly spaced ripples.

  Bending his finger slowly in the come-hither sign, he said: “have at you, John Doe.”

  With an unimpressed gaze followed by an eye roll, John raised his revolver and shot the man through the head. His body went floppy, hitting the floor with an unceremonious thud as the entire arena was silent.

  A slight flicker of a smile twitched on John’s lips as he raised his pistol to his mouth and blew away the steam emanating from its barrel. Cordite filled his nostrils, but it was worth it to see the petrified looks on the other avatar’s faces.

  “It’s martial arts by the way,” he said, gazing up at the stands and readying himself for what would surely happen next.

  Gasps flowed from all around him like a verbal Mexican wave. The avatars encircling John seemed unsure whether to press in further and go for the kill or back down and surrender.

  No one had expected such an easy defeat, that was for sure. Ignoring them all, John turned to Joanna and raised his weapons once more.

  “Let’s settle this once and for all,” he said, staring down the iron sights at his target.

  “It’s been forever since a man looked at me like that,” she replied, curling her lip at one side, “you’re making me blush.”

  “Ha!”

  The single, forceful laugh rang out across the quiet battleground and they both turned towards it, John keeping his revolvers trained on Joanna the whole time.

  Staggering to his feet was Ka Ren, he reached to his forehead and produced a flattened bullet, placing it between his thumb and forefinger and inspecting it carefully.

  “Well met Mr Doe, that was quite the surprise,” he said, flames lighting up the nebula in his eyes. “Did you really think such a small article would end me? I am a Martian artist in this body, I have used Qi to strengthen my skin. I could challenge the very heavens above if I did not already own them.”

  “Who the hell are you?” John asked incredulously.

  “Who am I? Why, my name is known across the system. I am Ka Ren, the most revered and respected lower middle manager in the Jellyfish Collective, nay, the galaxy.”

  “Lower middle management,” John repeated, raising a single eyebrow.

  “Indeed, I worked tirelessly for two hundred years, the amount of unpaid overtime I have completed is legendary. I missed my own daughter’s birth all for the sake of my career and if I had to, I’d do it all again to reach this prestigious position and sign my name in the annals of history.”

  “Alright we get it grandpa,” Joanna said, standing up and moving next to John, “if corporate capitalism had a dick you’d be first in line to suck it. Are we going to fight now or what?”

  “We?” John said, furrowing his brow and turning to her.

  “We.” She nodded firmly, “we’ll continue our little spat later. “First, let’s take down these space invaders. We’ll make them regret fucking with the human race.”

  “I will gladly take you both on,” Ka Ren proclaimed, pounding his fists against his chest like a gorilla. “’Tis mere child’s play.”

  John was about to protest but before he had the chance Ka Ren pushed off from the ground and flew towards them like a fleshy rocket.

  I guess we’re doing this then, John thought as he dived out of the way.