Picture War

Behind the Holofield Assistance Deck, your job was simple, if not easy. Competitive simulations had to be run by the building’s software, and whoever came up to you, you had to be ready to set up a game for them to settle their disputes over.

Never had one of those disputes seemed so dire.

They walked up like siblings forced to hold hands, angrily avoiding eye contact with the other as neither wished to be the one to speak with the employee. But in some fateful mercy, one did eventually communicate.

“We need… I need a fair game. I’ve got 254 tokens on the line and this brat has earned a beating.”

The man’s claims were questionable, but in time Wyatt recognized him as the very Coaster Bozo, a special guest at this week’s competition. As any loyal park worker should, he gave him the quickest service he could without a second thought.

“I-I can-“ he stuttered. “Set you up in the red corner of the room, right over there.” He pointed to the suitably crimson wing of the field, lacking any users. “I’ll have a game of Picture War ready.”

Neither of the customers had any idea what that was, but it sounded cool enough.

They were bathed in red, soon as they entered their provided arena. In seconds a board appeared- something like a square ring. Bozo was grumbling.

“You are… almost certainly the worst, most un-heroic girl I have ever had the displeasure of meeting, and I’ve met multiple young women who totaled my entire park. Are all of you like this these days…? That can’t be. My youngest employee shows more respect than anyone. So what is it… that made you such a pain? Not enough comic books, maybe…”

“I’m not listening to the guy in his underwear.” Frankie stung.

“I’m gonna enjoy this.”

A voice from the ceiling began to read off the instructions to their game.

“Hello out there! It’s me, Ron Raccoon! I’m here to explain the basics of Cinema City Holofield’s Picture War! Ready to enter the violent world of animation?”

Both players stared directed at the other, making the meanest face they could while listening.

“It’s a simple wrestling game! You’ll both compete, and whoever gets pinned for three seconds or thrown off the side loses! Of course, you won’t be the ones fighting.” A short laugh spurted from out of its musteloid vocal cords. “You’ll both design an original character, right here and now! Go ahead, try it! Just know- the more complex it is, the harder it’ll be to animate!”

“Animate…?” Frankie had lost track of the instructions already.

“Then again… the more detail your design has, the stronger it’ll be, in more ways than one!” Ron laughed the exact same way a second time, like a verbal tic.

Bozo had already made his by the time Frankie realized. An exact replica of himself, down to every wrinkle and remaining tuft of hair.

Frankie started imaging the opposite- something simple, but something she could actually control… something effective.

“When you place your character on the board, they’ll be frozen solid! You’ll have to perfectly imagine their next move for them to do anything, retaining all the details you designed them with! A small margin of error is provided, but only small!”

She ended up with an almost-2D stick figure- one with a hollow circle head and thin limbs. Bozo guffawed the second he saw it.

“Gonna beat me with that? Hardly a compelling villain.” He set his newly-minted Coaster Bozo action figure down on the play field. “I’ve seen myself in this form a million times already in the Venge City gift shop, so this wasn’t especially hard for me.”

“‘Cause nobody buys the figures of you?” Frankie set her courageous stickman down, convincing herself he had a chance.

Bozo grumbled louder.

“Okay! Animators, are you ready? Three, two, one… FIGHT!”

The miniature Bozo immediately took seven steps forward as Frankie forgot how to play.