Cutthroat Quizzing

“Question… two.” She groaned.

“Hurry up!” Robert stoked. “We’re on a timer here!”

Kyla looked over her shoulder. Boyfriend still MIA.

“Question. Two.” She repeated.

Rob slammed his fist into the bag of token’s he’d amassed. He’d picked a most troublesome judge. Why, his opponents were practically enjoying themselves- clapping, cheering, ready for the next question. It was positively nettling. He surrendered his self-importance. It was displeasing, but an obvious sacrifice to make. If he wanted to win, he needed to play nice.

“How much of the moon’s territory does Kidney own?”

“90%.” Rob rounded. Frankie and Katie barely had time to process the question before he answered. No more taking chances, he told himself. The fact that the real number was somewhere around 93.317% didn’t matter today.

“Correct…” Kyla shrugged, tapping the screen. “Three. How many Kidneylands-“

“Fifteen.”

“Correct. Four. As of 2010, how old is-“

“242 years old.”

“I wish you’d let me finish the questions.”

“Sorry. Didn’t wanna waste your time.” The fanboy giggled. There was no reason to fear two girls who hadn’t even managed to answer a single question yet.

Three minutes and fifteen seconds.

“Five, how many fingers does Ron Racoon have?”

“Four.”

“Correct. What were Ron’s first spoken words on scr-“

“I’m not tired!” He mimicked. He sounded like he thought his impression was better than it really was.

“Correct again…”

Frankie rubbed the two silver coins in her pocket. Okay. Yep. Bad idea. This was a bad idea.

After everything she’d seen, she wasn’t the least bit scared of some Ron Racoon-obsessed freak. He was no worse than poor Drew from Fairytown. What she’d failed to consider were the stakes of the operation. She knew she’d lose everything if she were to lose, yes- her spot in Kidney’s game hinged on this battle. But she was certain her grit would be able to push her through it, right?

Not so.

Katie was just as scared. In moments she’d gone from having fun to having a panic attack. If she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t fund her journey any longer.

“Seven, when was the Kidney Foundation established?”

“133 BNG!” Katie cried.

“Incorrect. That’s 132. Moving on.”

Her pulse was escaping her body. Frankie’s hands were resting on her back, trying to pull her to safety, but it didn’t matter. Katie felt like she was on the brink of death.

Frankie’s eyes shot around the room.

“Hey, uh-“ She rambled to her competitors. “My sister, she’s- can we take a break?”

“Don’t chicken out. I thought I was the sore loser?” Rob smugly mocked.

Frankie’s pupils shrunk in anger.