Okay, Gomez, don't panic. This is merely a dumb YA dystopian plot. Nothing you haven't seen a million times before. I survived the Twilight craze, I can survive this.

So, a Goblet of Fire. Sorry, a Chalice of Flameisnotagobletpleasedontsue. If this is a Hunger Games-type deal, it means people will put forward their names and one will be chosen amongst the color-coded groups. As long as I or anyone else here puts their name down, it should be easy to skip this whole rigmarole.

Another, smaller chalice is placed at the bottom of the podium with clear stones, like ones you can find at the bottom of a fish tank belonging to a pimp. Everyone is quiet as a zebra, and just about as fidgety. The fiery chalice is placed between the rock chalice and the podium. Well, to call it fiery is a little bit...excessive. It seems like somebody poured an ounce of sambuca in it and lit it on fire. Come to think of it, the "chalice" kinda looks like a red solo cup. Did somebody steal this from a beer pong table?

"And now, we shall proceed with the selection ceremony!" yells the dragnpa, raising his staff to the skies. "Come forward and place a rock with your aura on the Chalice of Flameisnotagobletpleasedontsue, if you dare!"

A line forms in front of the rock chalice from members of the different color-coded tribes. They look like the world's grimiest skittle line. I can taste the rainbow, and it tastes like sweat and dickcheese.

I can see that, whenever somebody picks up a rock, it turns into a different color. Well, it beats having to cut your hand and place your blood into some weird rocks, me thinks. The rock then gets tossed into the chalice. Since it's just a red solo cup, it gets filled pretty quickly. A dragonoid attendant grabs the cup and tosses the rocks into a bucket. Why didn't they use the bucket in the first place is beyond my mortal comprehension. Maybe they think a solo red cup is like a human relic, stolen from some war from long ago. Or maybe, just maybe, I don't care.

What I do care is that nobody in our little groups is approaching that skittle orgy. Hayden looks to be as confused as I am. The LB and Trevor the Man-man are just staring intently and the procession. Okayden is also watching every move with the utmost care, except for the few moments when he gets distracted by Brayden pulling at his wings.

My hypothesis seems to be correct. Sort of. And without Okayden putting his name on the Vase of Imminent lawsuit, he's rejecting the bad boy thing to do and skipping all this nonsense. Way to go, Okayden! So proud of you, buddy. I still kinda wanna know what he wants in life after this. I'll ask him when this is all over.

It takes a little over ten minutes for the line to dwindle, and at least six buckets full of pebbles. The chalice long since lost the fire inside, and it's now just a warped, half-broken cup one would find in the yard of a frat house after homecoming.

Where can we go home? It's now like, 1 A.M, and Brayden needs his beauty sleep. He's already getting cranky, even after Hayden gave him an emergency juice box.

Lucky for us, the last pebble has been cast. About 70% of the attendants placed their names forward, to my best estimate. The dragnpa takes the stage once again after a brief pause for suspense.

"And so, the selection has finished!" yells the dragnpa. Several attendants grab the buckets and hold them aloft. "To all of you who have cast your name, according to our ancient traditions... We shall take note of your cowardice, and your failure to step forward in this time of need will be a stain on your family name."

...squeeze me?

The dragnpa raises his cane once again, and the rock on his staff starts to glow. The buckets also glow, not because of some dumb bar trick, but because the rocks start to glow as well. One by one the people start to disappear, as if they were a pringle chip at the bottom of the can and a kid snatches them up with their fingertips.

This is bad. Very bad. Terrible, horrible, not good, et all. It wasn't a selection process. It was a reverse-selection process! All those who didn't put the rock in are actually the one participating. What kind of convoluted bullcrap Y.A twist is this? This story is never going to get published with this kind of inconsistent writing.

I turn towards my companions, and besides Hayden, who seems as lost as I am — and, of course, Brayden, who I don't think realizes where he even is as he sips his apple juice — they all seem content. The LB is twirling his dagger, the ginger is fidgeting with his cane/staff, and Okayden is batting his wings gently in anticipation.

On the other hand, I'm gonna shit myself. Again.

"Hey, ginger-shnaps!" I yell to Trevor the Man-man. "I could've used a heads up. I didn't wanna fight, you know!"

It's Okayden, not Trevor the Man-man, who responds.

"I was under the mind,

That you would fight next to me,

As brothers in arms."

"Okayden, brother, friend, beloved pet," I say as nicely as I can in a life-and-death situation, "this is literally the most bad boy thing you can do. We are literally a group made to combat this entire cliche thing. To fight in a death game for the control of a pack or whatever the fuck would go against what we stand for. What possesses you to do such a dumb thing?"

You would think I just insulted his mother and stepped on his tail by his looks alone. Okayden gives me a pained look as he casts his eyes down, not meeting mine. He opens his jacket — or what remains of it, really — to take out an envelope. He hands me the envelope with both hands like a sad Japanese businessman giving me his business card.

I don't even have to open it to know the gist of it, but I do it, just for exposition's sake.

"My Sweet Okayden,

If you are reading this, it means that the worst has come to pass: I am dead. Surely because I've never tasted chocolate before and curiosity got the better of me. It just smells... divine. Anyhow, since I've kicked the bucket, and probably couldn't say goodbye, this is it. Goodbye, my sweet dark prince. Mommy is very proud of his little batty-wappy. There is not much I own that I can give to you, but what little I have, you can take. There is a really tasty bone buried behind the shed that you can have, alongside the pictures I took from your Bark-mitzvah. Of course, since you are half-vampire, you don't actually appear in any photos, but still! I also leave you Trevor, for he is the being I trust more in life than anything else and he is cool and wise and is a tremendous lover, from what I've heard. I'll soon join your father in the afterlife, and will most likely punch him in the gonads for not paying child support.

I do have a last wish, a selfish one. I know you don't want to, as you have left the nest to make your own life, and I have wholeheartedly supported you until now... but I would like you to follow my footsteps. Protect the forest. Take your rightful seat as the protector of the forest, with Trevor at your side. It is imperative that you have Trevor at your side. He is important.

I love you, and I know you will make me proud,

Love, Mom."

She really lays it in thick that she wants the ginger to stay with him. Maybe he was more important than the average ginger. Also, wasn't Okayden's mom a vampire? Why would she be allergic to chocolate? In any case, I kinda understand where he's coming from. But...

"Okayden, I understand that you want to honor your mother's wishes, but that's all they are: wishes. You don't have to follow them if they clash with your own path in life. This is not something to be taken lightly. You will tie yourself to this forest for your entire mortal life, being a bad boy Alpha, submitting others to your will."

Okayden looks at me in the eyes with a mixture of sadness and determination, like a melancholic pidgeon eating stale bread. I can see it in his eyes. He doesn't want to, but feels he has to. He just needs a push.

"You don't have to do this, you know?" is what I want to say, but Hayden puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Is this what you want to do, brother?" says Hayden, slowly, with gravitas.

After a few seconds, what little sadness in Okayden's eyes gets overtaken by determination. Don't make an Undertale joke, please. He nods emphatically.

"Then, I will help you," says Hayden. He reaches around to my other shoulder and pulls me towards him. "We will help you, as your friends. For that's what friends do. Right, babe?"

Damn his pleading doe eyes and suave, dulcet voice! He's check-mated me before I can even sway him. I can almost feel the hope irradiating from Okayden.

But I don't want to. I'm soft and easily bruisable, like a mango, or, like, a fucking wax apple. I'm fruity, sweet, and easily spoilable.

It seems to reflect in my eyes as Hayden gives me a sweet smile. "Don't worry. Nothing bad is going to happen. I'll protect you. Promise."

While his mighty, manly arms definitely contribute to my almost-nonexistent peace of mind, the conniving "fufufu" coming from the LB behind me is giving me an anxiety attack. I'm too hot to die.

"I promise," repeats Hayden, as if to soothe my soul. "Trust me."

Okay. I might not trust Okayden's will, but I can trust my man. Still, this all seems a bit off for some reason. Especially the letter. Don't ask me why, but it feels... ginger, for some reason. Just a hunch.

What is also not a hunch, but a certainty, is that the LB is gonna fucking backstab us at some point. I just feel it in my heart-afro.

"I trust you," I say to Hayden. "And you as well, Okayden. If that's your dream, I will help you achieve it."

He cringes slightly at the mention of "dream," telling me this is far from it, but still bows in gratitude. "Brayden, any objections?"

"i have f.o.m.o, so whatever ya choose, i'll follow," says Brayden. "more juice, pliz."

And so, the die has been cast. Sort of. Against my will.

The dragnpa cast the last spell, disappearing the last being away. It leaves only a handful of beings from each tribe, although some colors, like purple and pink, have disappeared completely. There are around 20 or so members from each of the remaining tribes. Needless to say, we are vastly outnumbered.

"so, what's the plan, fido?" says Brayden, sipping on a new juice box. Hayden didn't give him that one. "gonna hump their legs and eat their shoes."

But it's a valid question. One that I'll also like to know.

The curt look he gives Okayden tells me he wasn't far from the money on that one.

"Stay packed, stay close,

Don't panic. Trevor will buff,

And I'll do the rest."

"fine by me. i ain't worth shit in a fight."

"Fufufu, I'm also a powerful spellcaster. You don't think I will skip out on this spar, no?"

"I also intend to fight," says Hayden. He takes three baseballs from his back pocket. So that's why his ass is so lumpy. "I'll provide support from the rear while you ram them hard."

"And also me, I think," I say. I honestly don't have much fighting prowess, but I have plot armor. I'm the protagonist, after all. Might as well be immortal.

"Then, we have a plan,

Stay close, watch each other's backs,

And we will win, fast."

"Don't worry, my droogies. I will watch your backs. Very, very closely. Fufufu," says the LB.

Yep, gonna backstab me right through the sternum.

Okayden takes a step forward, and then another, in a motion that most people know as walking, towards the podium. We follow suit.

The Vamwolf, howling with a handful of his tribesmen, turns around as soon as we approach the podium, and closes in the distance between him and Okayden.

"Ah, if it isn't the half-breed mutt, returning to the forest with his tail between his legs," says the Vamwolf. "Ah, wait, you don't have a tail! Wahaha!"

Trevor the Man-man leans in towards me as the beast bellows a laugh. "That's Vampyr Von Woof, heir of the Von Woof bloodline. They have been the mortal enemies of the McHumans for a few hundred years."

"Oh, so now you're explaining shit?" I tell him with my patented stink-eye, which normally is shielded by my glasses, but now can shine in all its glory. "Too little, too late, Weasly."

Okayden doesn't say anything to the Vamwolf. Just seethes and sizzles, like a freshly-made fajita platter.

(Note: Should stop writing while hungry. Now I want some tex-mex.)

Hmm, there's the note again. It gets weirder and weirder. But I don't have time to think about that.

"I can't wait to break you, boy," says the Vamwolf. "I'll show you who is the superior breed around here!"

Okayden simply flaps his wings, blowing some air at the Vamwolf.

"I'm so, very sorry,

I can't hear you over the,

Sound of my wings. See?"

The Vamwolf, who has no wings, grinds his teeth and assumes a battle position.

Damn, Okayden can be savage. But that was a very bad boy thing to do, so I don't condone it.

A small pixie puts herself between the two, trying to separate them with her tiny arms. "Slow down, twerp. At least show some respect to the mourners. Okayden, I'm sorry about your mother."

Okayden stops flapping his wings and gives the pixie a small bow.

"That being said," says the pixie with a small, but evil, smile, "don't take this personally, but I will crush you, both."

"That's enough, now," says the dragnpa, tapping his staff twice on the floor, which served to silence everyone. "Since the cowards have been evacuated, it is time for the trial. May the luck be on your side, and away from copyright strikes."

"Remember," says Hayden, "stay together. Strength in numbers, and don't panic!"

If only it was that easy. The dragnpa raises his staff to the sky, charging the crystal on top with magic and light, and smashes it down, all while yelling 「Gaia's Labyrinth」.

The ground shakes and tears beneath my feet, shifting as if a million snakes were scurrying just beneath the grass. In fact, the ground itself moves like a slide puzzle, separating us in a flash. I can't even yell Hayden's name before a wall of vines, as thick as the average Smash Bros player, cuts me off from anybody else. It takes a minute for the ground to stop spinning around, and leave me standing Farfallah knows where, all alone, in a DIY Mazerunner/Goblet of Fire maze.

So much for having a plan.