(Recall that Blog time is different than earth’s time. An hour on earth is equivalent to 20 hours in the Blog world)
10:03- Vortex slowly stepped his way towards door 3 and twisted the door’s golden handle. As he pushed open the creaking door, darkness consumed the coliseum and blinded all spectators. What appeared ahead was clear to Vortex. He entered the underworld. The door slammed shut behind him and the crowd went silent.
10:04- Ahead of Vortex was a tribal circle comprised of the ghosts of Mr. Sussman’s past. Vortex stood outside the circle. A man with a thumb for a face, the father of each and every one of the on-looking ghosts, was giving a speech about giving back to the less fortunate underworld ghosts. Then, as Vortex tried to ask the ghosts where he was, the thumb’s face turned on its axis towards Vortex. The thumb screeched, “You are in your mind, your peaceful, innocent mind. We survive out here in the cold around this campfire, dead immortal minds exiled from the wrath of the Blog devil. That is not your destiny, though. There is a trail, a trail controlled by the Blog devil. Make it through this trail and trust nobody. The Blog devil stands at the end of this trail, pulling the strings of the robotic minds of the people of the underworld. What you must do then nobody knows. But, you will. On your way now.”
10:05- On his way out of the tribal grounds, Vortex was stopped by Mr. Sussman wearing a white tank. Mr. Sussman stared into the eyes of Vortex and told him one thing, “This Blog underworld is as foreign to you as real life to a private school kid. I do not have the time or the optimism to familiarize you with this hell. But, there is this one rule. Trust those wearing white. Fear those wearing black; they work for the Blog devil. Those wearing red, nobody knows.” Vortex shook his hand and travelled into the shaded cobblestone trail.
10:06- In the distance Vortex saw a city of green. He moved off the trail and entered the gates of the city. The city was inhabited by a swarm of elf boys, tanned Asians with Blog-Hispanic last names, and deranged Blog-Jewish girls. The elf boys were befriending an albino named Levinson as the tanned Asians bounced around the city fiending for Blog-cocaine. Vortex found his place with the large-nosed Blog-Jews as they complimented his dance moves. Vortex recalled that nobody is to be trusted but was captivated by the compliments of the Blog-Jews.
“Be here with us, forever,” they sang.
A Ping-Pong ball struck Vortex in the face from the trail. It was his friend from the Blog world, Joey. He screamed to Vortex, “Chi O done. Don’t be content with this low-tier Jewish pun.” Vortex turned to the Blog-Jews in this green city and began to walk towards Joey. The Blog-Jews pulled him back, pleading, “You can have us. Be like your big Baumer, shush your mouth, and have us however you’d like.” Vortex replied, “But I must go.” The girls grew in stature as their eyes turned black.
“You don’t have a choice! You must stay!” they shouted in unison. They began to tie him down and undress him as he fought back. They took off his pants and began to go for his penis, but the touch of his foreskin made the Blog-Jewish girls explode immediately. Vortex remained unharmed, put his clothes back on, and went to Joey.
10:08- Joey and Vortex walked into the sunset. When the night grew cold they came across a series of steps with a door on top. At the base there was a table. Sitting there was a blonde child in black. Vortex recalled Mr. Sussman’s words but walked up to the table. The child looked so innocent. Vortex asked, “What’s your name little guy?”
“Ian Marshall,” he replied, “do you have a wristband?” Vortex shook his head.
Ian whistled towards two birdmen seated on an elevated surface on a marble column at the top of the stairs. They did not hear him, so Ian hollered, “Orans and JP, we have a live Blog person!”
“What are you doing?” asked Vortex.
“What needs to be done,” answered Ian, “You are living. For you to be here, we must kill you.” Vortex tried to get by Ian. In turn, Ian took Joey’s neck and threatened to end Joey’s life right there and there if Vortex were to take another step. The birdmen started their descent to the base when Vortex frantically asked, “What can I do for you that the Blog devil never could?” Ian stood there as if no soul lived behind his face. An Indian J. Cole walked up to them from the woods to the right of the stairs. He had a basketball in hand. Vortex took the ball and offered it to Ian, sighing under his breathe, “Not in my wildest dreams [will this work].”
Ian mistook his comment and his eyes lit up, “You have hoop dreams, too?” In astonishment, Vortex replied, “Yes! If you save me and my friends and come with us, I will find a way to make your hoop dreams a reality.” Ian nodded, called off the hungry birdmen, and led Joey, Indian J. Cole, and Vortex up the stairs to the door. He opened the door and again darkness consumed their surroundings. They entered the underworld of the Blog underworld as the door behind them slammed shut.
10:11- The door was a door to a study hall on a college campus. The desks had been thrown about and ceiling tiles were on the ground. The carpet was torn apart and walls were punched in. Police (of the Blog underworld’s underworld) sirens blasted in the background and a swat team was climbing the stairs up to the room. The only person there was a large surfer dude with a nametag that read “Risk Manager Jay.” Jay was crying on the floor, repeating the line, “I’m going to jail like those Sammy kids,” to himself. Vortex asked where they were and Jay replied, “Rackham.”
“Was Sloppy here and are there witnesses that can attest to the fact that he was here?” asked Vortex.
“Yes,” replied Jay, “but why?”
“Are there any more nametags?” asked Vortex.
“Yes,” answered Jay. Vortex took a pen and scribbled on a nametag: “Vice president Sloppy.”
“Here’s the plan,” Vortex told Jay, “Nobody has ever heard you or Sloppy talk before. And given Sloppy has never made his presence known in administrative things, they won’t question you if you say you are Sloppy. Confess to it all being your fault, or rather, Sloppy’s fault. Only then can we save the fraternity from a Sammy destiny.”
“Chi O, done?” asked Joey.
“For now,” replied Vortex.
10:13- Vortex led Ian, Joey, and Indian J. Cole out of Rackham. A few blocks down the lit-up streets of the Blog underworld’s underworld in the night, Vortex noticed a stage and a public speaker atop that stage. Thirty or so men sat facing the speaker, who appeared to be a white plantation owner, on their knees. Gunmen stood behind the kneeling men, with automatic rifles directed at their heads inches away. Vortex, Ian, Joey, and Indian J. Cole hid behind a bush on the side of the stage. Then the speech started. “I am your grand ruler, King Field. I once was benevolent. But you do not respect my reign. I will not show remorse for those who attempt to perform a coup to take my power. And I will not give peace to those who attempt to murder and scalp my fellow politicians.”
“What can you even do?” hollered a Leonardo DiCaprio-looking figure with a Boston accent kneeling in front of the stage, “We’re already the dead of the dead in this hell of all hells.”
“It’s funny you asked that,” replied King Field with a smirk, “When you die down here, you enter Blog-limbo: An empty world of darkness and my voice, always at its highest shout, making insensitive comments that are in no way humorous. But, I enjoy listening to myself, and soon, you will choose to enjoy it too or eternally suffer.” Vortex’s face turned red.
“Never!” hollered Vortex. He took a knife lying on the stage and stabbed a startled King Field. As he did so, the stage collapsed.
10:15- Unbeknownst to the crew of Vortex, Joey, Ian, and Indian J. Cole, they were not the only people with intentions to crash and ruin Field’s power trip. The Blog-illuminati planted bombs under the stage that were supposed to blow up a minute after Vortex stabbed Field. On the other side of the stage, the present members of the Blog-illuminati, Colin and Garrett, ran towards Vortex and told him that the bomb was about to blow. Vortex took the knife, quickly scalped Field in seconds and ran off. The soon-to-be-massacred rebels had been able to escape the grasps of some of the soldiers but some were shot and killed. The crew led by Vortex and now accompanied by Colin and Garrett took the guns and shot down the remaining soldiers. The Blog underworld’s underworld army was arriving in the distance, so the six of them sought refuge in a hotel, as the stage blew up.
10:19- In the lobby of the hotel they found a group of formally dressed men and their dates. The Blog-Canadian flag flew outside the window. One of the suited men wearing an all black tux handed Vortex a beer. Vortex took a sip. The hotel security rushed out and grabbed Vortex and his friends. They dragged them to a backroom, tied them down and took off the bags they had placed on their heads. On a blackboard on the back wall, there was a 64-team bracket where one of the 64 teams was listed as “the outsiders.”
“Are we ‘the outsiders’? ” asked Vortex.
“Yes,” replied one of the girls, “I am Ann Marie Sweeney and you are the 64th team in our pi phi death-match bracket. Win, and we are your partners in crime, but more specifically, pregames forever. Lose, and you lose more than you could ever imagine.”
The six of them were brought by the girls to an open pit, surrounded by 63 other captured groups of men. “In the first round, you advance by winning a 1-on-1 basketball game to 11. You’re up first,” Ann Marie said as she pointed to the six of them and another crew.
Ian stepped up and won 11-0. In the second round, the teams had to code a virtual hand job device. Garrett took center stage and won before the other crew could even write a line of code. In round 3, to advance, a crew had to choose a member to win a freestyle rap competition. Indian J. Cole took the microphone and spit so hard his opponent was left speechless. In the quarterfinals, the competition was a high-pitch screaming contest, which Joey won easily. In the semifinals, the teams competed in a wheelchair race. Colin beat the other competitor by 15 seconds, setting the course record.
10:22- Then came the finals. A man named Seamus came up who brought a projector and a laptop. “To be the champion,” Ann Marie stated, “you must tell us what the content of the email header you are going to receive is about, without actually reading the email.” Vortex stepped up. The email header appeared on the screen and it was entitled, “Thursday Mixer with Tri Delt at Church! ;)”
The opponent clicked in before Vortex and answered, “It’s a college mixer!” He was wrong.
Vortex speedily clicked in and nervously answered, “Philanthropy?” Ann Marie threw up her arms and declared “the outsiders” the champions. “The outsiders” left the back of the hotel and entered into an arena.
10:24- “Come one, come all!” screamed a skinny snake-man wearing an all red suit. It was a beauty pageant they had just entered and the crew of Vortex, Joey, Ian, Indian J. Cole, Colin, and Garrett took seats in the back. “Are yall ready for the Mr. Blog Underworld’s Underworld competition, brought to you by your favorite political party ‘Make Blog’s Underworld’s Underworld?’ “ The crowd cheered. “Then get ready for our first participant, my personal lover boy, Mike Barto!” The crowd cheered louder and louder as Mike Barto was brought out in make-up and chains.
Vortex was morally opposed to the evil on stage and stood up. From the back he yelled, “Stop!” and the crowd went silent.
“Come to the front my boy,” said the skinny snake-man. As Vortex stepped down to the center of the arena, the crowd disappeared. Only Joey, Ian, Indian J. Cole, Colin, and Garrett remained seated in the back.
10:26- “You are Oedipus Tex, the man of the prophecy,” the skinny snake-man told Vortex, “I am Sean and I am the Blog devil’s personal servant. You have come a long way my boy. You have come to the second-to-last step in your journey. Behind this stage here lies the immense mansion of the Blog devil. If you are to fulfill your prophecy and liberate the Blog people of the Blog world, you will enter the mansion and defeat the Blog devil. But, here is a word of note my boy. There are consequences to your victory, evil consequences. Do you like your new friends?”
“Yes,” replied Vortex sternly.
“To liberate the Blog people is to give your five friends to Blog-limbo for eternity. If you so choose to pursue your destiny as the liberator of all Blog people, an epic fight will ensue between you and the Blog devil. You will win, but your friends will sacrifice themselves in doing so. To save millions of strangers is to kill your five friends.”
“So, I present you an alternative. To the left of me is a door back to the Blog world. Understand my boy, I have one power unique to me in all of the Blog. I have the power to erase an interval of memory. Enter this door and I will eliminate all memories, or rather, the existence of your journey into the coliseum, into the Blog underworld and the underworld’s underworld. Your friends will go with you. We will maintain the status quo. The evil of all three layers of the Blog world will remain, but your friends will be safe.”
10:27- Vortex stood there for a long moment. He knew that it was his destiny to liberate the Blog people. He also knew he could have never gotten here without the help of his friends.
10:28- Vortex chose to enter the mansion with his five friends, not trusting the words of Sean’s prophecy for him, as Mr. Sussman had warned him. The mansion was empty.
They climbed the circular stairs at the back of the mansion to the sixth floor. The sixth floor was a hallway with numbered doors. Out of room sixty-six, they heard noise. They walked to it and Vortex opened the door. Light hit their eyes. The Blog god turned around, sitting in his throne in the Blog coliseum.
“I am the Blog devil and the Blog god alike, “ he said.
He looked into their eyes and the six fainted to their death, paralyzed by the gaze of the all-powerful man.
The fire took those six boys that day. The only remains of Vortex are his scattered ashes among the sand of the Blog coliseum and the legend of his tragic heroics.