Game 3Game 3 Outline| Game 3 |
Game 3 Outline |
In all honesty, you've been trying to find a shortcut for days now, and nothing seems to work, usually landing you in more trouble to begin with. So maybe it is time to just buckle down and do things the way nature intended, even if nothing about the past few days really seems all that natural. "Let's skip the shortcuts," you say to Cameron, "Probably wouldn't work as well anyway." you try to convince yourself of this to eliminate any linger doubts you may have.
"Good for you," says Cameron, "Well go ahead and get started. Coach hasn't had a real challange in ages." Cameron leads you out of the room and down a few passageways. You exit out into a courtyard. You don't recognize it on the blueprints, and wonder how exactly that is possible, since it is pretty open, and not only that, sports a track and football field, a few werewolves tumbling over a football. "This little setup is in a pocket dimension," explains Cameron when you ask, "Technically it's in the same place, but is sort of a dimension over so we have privacy and don't have to worry about being seen. I'll leave you to Coach, good luck." And with that Cameron leaves you.
"Wait, who's Coach?" you call to him, wondering why he hadn't pointed him out. "Down here you whale!" a voice comes from below. You stretch you neck a little to look over the curve of your stomach, and see a short werewolf with a annoyed expression on his face. He's maybe 3 feet tall, and the small wirey frame makes you think more of a scotty dog then a wolf. "Wait, your the Coach?" you ask in disbelief, thinking that this was some kind of joke. "You got a problem with that Tubbo?" he says, poking your gut hard, "I wouldn't be the one complaining about who he's got to work with, what you do? Bathe in cheeseburgers?" Your not appreciative of his tone, "Hey, you can't talk to me like that!" you say defensivly. "Oh no?" says the Coach, and suddenly he leaps at you, drop kicking you in the gut so hard it sends you reeling back, tumbling ionto your back with your gut wobbling on top of you. The Coach then leaps on top of it, stomping his feet down as he approaches your face and sending waves throughout your body, "Let me tell you something wideload, for the next few months, your oversize rear end is mine. If I say jump, you better already be in the air, if I say run, you better be acting as if your trying beat someone to that last milkshake your dieing to drown yourself in. My word will be your bread and butter, and you WILL do everything I order without complaint or talk back! You got that, or is there too much lard blocking your ears that I have to beat back to get your attention!?"
You nod, too intimidated to talk back to the coach. Any thought of him as a scotty dog has fled you imagination. Appearances certainly are decieving with this one. "Now move that flabby butt of yours and give me 50 laps!" he yells at you jumping off and giving you a kick to get you moving. Huredly you roll onto your feet, and begin waddling down the track. The coach is right behind you, a stick in hand as he easily keeps pace, slapping you in the rear end every few seconds. "Faster piggy, you call that a run! I've seen moss that moves faster then you!"
***
By the end of the day, you can easily say you've never, EVER been as exhausted as you are now. The 50 laps were followed by pull ups, the coach 'motivating; you by holding a lit torch under your feet to encourage you to move faster. After that you were forced to drag 3 other werewolves on a sled while the coach whipped you. Then came upside down sit ups, where you were hung by your ankles as you tried to bend your bloated form enough to keep your head out of a aquarium filled with water, puchups with a number of pack members sitting on your back, and jumping jacks with 50 pound weights attacked to your wrists and ankles, the pack poking fun at you all the way. And those were just the warm ups.
You're so sore you can hardly move, and so tired that even the thought of food is secondary to the exhaustion threatening to plunge you into a coma as you drag yourself back through the castle. Finally, you collapse into your bedroll once you reach you room, groaning as your weight imobilizes you. You couldn't get up now if you tried. You knew it was going to be hard, but you had no clue it would be this intense. Your seriously wondering if the Coach was trying to kill you. Even more you wonder if it's even possible for you to keep up this pace. Not to mention your starving, but not even that can motivate you to move from that spot. You last moments of conciousness before your dragged into a deep sleep is spent wondering what your going to do to survive a month of this...
Written by Spots
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