Battle of Buttons, Part 3 (Patreon)

Battle of Buttons, Part 1: https://www.patreon.com/posts/64548439

Battle of Buttons, Part 2: https://www.patreon.com/posts/battle-of-part-2-64785102 

* * * *

In the middle of an open-air auditorium is a lifted stage similar to those found on reality competition shows. Five humans (Ambrose, Kent, Glitch, Sally, and Grayson) sit in comfortably plush armchairs onstage.

In addition to an enormous demon wearing formal attire (“Gil”), three humans (Nick, Hope, and John Wiseman) sit behind judges’ panel, a table covered with a purple cloth that reads “TRUEST LOVE QUEST 💜” in sparkly silver cursive. Each judge has been provided with a complementary iced tea, although only Nick has taken a sip so far.

Gil: The moment of truth draws near. Which love interest reigns supreme in romance? Who among our contestants shall be forever immortalized in my final playthrough and become Button’s canon match?

Sally: Could you hurry up? Dream or no dream, I’m ready to wake up and give MY significant other a hug.

Grayson: Agreed.

Kent nods.

Gil: I’m building up to it. I swear, mortals have no appreciation for dramatic tension.

Talia: Hey, now! No need for false defamations.

Gil: You excluded. Now, for our competition today, I shall be dividing you into teams.

Talia: We’re competing for Button’s love in groups? That seems confusingly polyamorous.

Gil, cheerfully: Oh, it’s much more confusing than that! Trust me.

Ambrose: No.

Gil, ignoring Ambrose: Sally and Grayson, you two won’t have partners. My deepest apologies, but neither of you are gender variable.

Grayson: Excuse me?

Sally: Competing alone means when I win, I get Ella—that is, Button—all to myself.

Nick, looking uncharacteristically surly: What are they competing to win, exactly? Because my sibling's name is still Sam.

Gil: Didn’t I already say? The prize is that the winner gets to be the love interest that my final, canon Button pursues.

Talia: You’re speaking as if we’re characters in a book.

Gil: A total coincidence, I assure you.

Talia looks unconvinced, but ultimately chooses to not pursue that line of questioning rather than risk the potential existential crisis. This is, after all, only a dream. Isn’t it?

Gil: Of course it is.

The assembled humans, judges and contestants alike, stare blankly at Gil, puzzled by his inexplicable outburst. He shrugs one massive shoulder.

Gil: Pay no attention, I’m just breaking walls. Now, onto our final showdown! As I said before, Grayson and Sally—you’re not gender variable and will thus compete solo.

Grayson: I still don’t understand what “gender variable” means.

Gil: It’s when a player decides which . . . No, I doubt that explanation will make much sense to you, either. Far easier to demonstrate.

Gil snaps his fingers.

Like Prometheus shaping men from mud, three small tornados of red dust whirl upwards before solidifying into the form of three humans: Kenna stares in horrified silence at the two leashes clutched in her hand, their collars now hanging lank and empty; Ambrosia immediately singles out Gil with a glare, her hand moving to the holster at her hip; Ferro’s eyes widen and he whips out his cell phone.

Ferro: There’s no signal. What kind of hellhole has no signal?

Gil, to the newcomers: This is a dream, the others are from different playthro—that is, different timelines. You’ll be cooperating with your double to prove that you’re Button Wiseman’s best and truest available soulmate.

He smiles reassuringly at Kenna, his good intentions damped by the sharpness of his teeth.

Gil: Your dogs are perfectly safe, snuggling against you in bed. It’s quite sweet.

An image appears in midair like a floating photograph, of Antigone and Cassandra curled around a still-slumbering Kenna. The dogs have claimed three-quarters of her queen size bed, leaving their owner with only the edge.

Kenna’s pale cheeks flush.

Kenna, defensively: They get lonely if I make them sleep in their crate.

Kent: Exactly.

Kenna glances at him, noticing the similarities between herself and Kent for the first time. She tilts her head to the side; Kent mirrors the motion.

Talia: “I put this question, fruitlessly, to everyone I knew—”

Ferro: —“What would you do, if you were me, to prove that you were you?”

The two grin widely at each other.

Talia and Ferro, simultaneously: Awesome.

Their shared smiles falter, neither completely liking the fact that they spoke simultaneously. Then the impish grins return in full force.

Talia and Ferro: Other me is hot.

Ambrose and Ambrosia make eye contact mid-eyeroll, and both look away with annoyed expressions while continuing to examine each other out of their peripheral vision. Kent and Kenna continue to mimic each other’s tentative head tilts and handwaves, more curious than disturbed.

Grayson: You know what? I don’t think this is actually a dream. My mind wouldn’t come up with something this . . .

Sally: Bizarre?

Talia and Ferro: Sexily taboo?

Ambrosia: It’s not a dream.

Ferro: Why not? I’ve had weirder.

Ambrosia, tersely: I don’t dream.

Nick groans.

Nick: Damnit, now there’s two of them. Kims 1 and 2 are right: this isn’t a dream. It’s my worst nightmare.

Ambrose and Ambrosia stare at each other for a long moment as if in silent communication. Ambrose’s eyebrow twitches; Ambrosia’s frown deepens. Both turn back towards Gil.

Ambrose: We refuse to compete.

Ambrosia: You’re clearly a powerful Ment, but you will tire eventually. Release us before you have no choice.

Gil’s groan rivals Nick’s.

Gil: I already told you that this is a dream! But have it your way: you two can sit on the sidelines until you’re ready to compete.

This time, Gil doesn’t bother with the theatrics of smoke and finger-snapping. He simply scowls, and Ambrose and Ambrosia are transported to the side of the stage, locked inside an enormous birdcage of gilded gold with a sign hanging above the locked hatch that reads “Spoilsport Timeout.” A pile of assorted knives, handguns, and small explosives lie just out of the captive’s reach, magically confiscated from them during teleportation.

If looks could kill, Ambrose and Ambrosia’s identical glares would have already caused Gil a heart attack (assuming, that is, demons have hearts). To the Kims’ evident disgruntlement, however, Gil seems more amused than threatened to their animosity.

Nick: That’s more like it! Demon dude, you’re finally starting to win me over.

Hope: Nicholas.

Nick: What? It’s not like he hurt them.

Hope frowns disapprovingly, elbowing her husband beneath the judge’s table so that John follows suit and helps stare down their son. Nick sighs.

Nick: Fine. Fine! Gil, please let the Kims out of their cage.

Gil, petulantly: Only if they stop being difficult. This get together was supposed to be fun, you know. It's lonely at times, being the only . . .

Gil sighs.

Gil: It's lonely.

Nick, to the Kims: Just do the competition. If this is a dream, you’ll eventually wake up. If not, at least we have a chance to learn why he’s doing all this.

The Kims exchange another look then slowly nod. The birdcage vanishes, as does the pile of their confiscated weapons.

Ambrose: For now.

Clearing his throat, Gil pointedly ignores Ambrose’s growled threat.

Gil: Kent and Kenna, Ambrose and Ambrosia, Talia and Ferro: you’ll be partnering with your alternate versions.

Talia: So we have Team Kenzie, Team Rosy, and . . .

Ferro: Team Awesome.

Talia: Agreed. Not the most poetic choice, but . . .

Ferro: It seems appropriate. Do we need an adjective?

Talia: Double Awesome?

Ferro: Wicked, perhaps!

Gil: You’ll be Team Glitch. For simplicity's sake.

Talia and Ferro look at each other and exchange shrugs.

Talia: Accepted.

Ferro: With the caveat to change the name later should we think of something better.

Sally: Okay, remember how I said that I was okay competing alone? This is starting to seem unfair that Glitch and Kenzie get to help themselves. There’s no male version of me out there? A Sal, maybe?

Nick chokes mid-swallow of iced tea. Sally glares at him.

Nick: What is Sal even short for?

Sally: I dunno. Salvatore, maybe.

Nick snickers.

Sally: I think Salvatore is a lovely name.

Nick: Sure, for a small-town teenage vampire. But you know what name is even better?

He smirks at Grayson, who returns his look with one of resignation.

Nick: Graycie.

Gray, diplomatically: I find the concept difficult to imagine for myself, but I certainly wouldn’t object to having a teammate.

Sally: Screw you, Nicholas. I’d make a great Salvatore.

Gil: Alas, Salvatore and Graycie don’t exist. But since you both are working independently, you may go last in order to have extra time to come up with your answers.

Talia and Ferro: Answer to what?

Gil: To the most romantic date possible! I want to know how each of you would woo Button, were human reality not so depressingly limited. Here’s my bargain: I’ll bring over your loved ones, and whatever you imagine for them, I’ll make happen. Whosever date makes their partner the happiest wins the game. Eschew the mundane! Imagine the impossible!

Talia: You’re saying that I get to go on a date with Elliot unfettered by the laws of physics?

Ferro, to Gil: How do we decide which one of us gets to go on the date?

Gil: The author will split reality and write two separate versions of each date.

His reply is met with blank looks. Gil sighs.

Gil: That answer was more intended for audiences at home.

Gil gazes into a previously unnoticed (and possibly nonexistent) camera.

Gil: Stay tuned for our next episode, where Taliaferro Parker takes Button on a date . . .

Talia: In space.

Talia and Ferro high-five without looking at each other.

Gil: A date in space, where gravity is optional but the chemistry is guaranteed!

* * * *

* * * *

* * * *

This has been Reality Warping With Gil, Hell’s #1 TV Show Not Involving Torture.

Produced, Directed, and Cast by Gil. Set design by Gil. Hosted by Gil and Assorted Mortals.

Tune in for the continuation of this ludicrously long interview, now an official miniseries where each of Mind Blind’s love interests stars in their own episode.

* * * *

Part 4: https://www.patreon.com/posts/battle-of-date-4-67695714