As our valiant heroes take the podiums, our national anthem plays:
And we're off!
It would seem we begin on the usual shenanigans. We have tributes running left and right. Stanley Kubrick seems to have snagged in the madness a pack full of booze. Meanwhile, Big Red finds what might be a prophecy of what's to come, or a general summary of what's happening right now.
Obviously, she finds this very profound has pictured in her expression.
Obviously, Putin wasn't in the right state of mind and he dies right away. Same with Malcom X who immediately twists his ankle. We hope this is not a sign of things to come for our black militant hero.
I'm clearly not stopping right now since I will say: this will be a long games. I'm going straight to the first batch of fallen tributes and later will try to post day-2 before I leave for work.
As the tributes leave the Cornucopia, the Marquise deLafayette somehow finds the time and ability to make a video game. Apperantly it's so good that it creates an explosion of popularity and people send him food. And why wouldn't they like it? He's an amazingly awesome person, and let me say I wouldn't fucking play the shit out of that game.
Pancho Villa seems to be out martially as he's attacked by a giant hound. It's promptly slain.
Furthermore, seemingly jealous of his relative shit run historically, Peppermints is off to stalk Vilage and learn from him. This I can only imagine means the misfortunate Hugs wants to learn from someone historically more masterful at RNG-survival than he.
Odly, despite all of this Che Queverra and Awson somehow construct universities in Cairo. I wonder what they'll teach?
Meanwhile Bobby Jindall uncharacteristically delves into questioning religion.
Muhammad (blessed by his name) also kills Carl the Cuck. But who gives a shit about him? No one, that's why he died.
Well, you know what they say in the Iron Islands: what is dead may never die. Well that doesn't fit here today, here's the first crop of the fortunate dead.