Pick Helen (THE END)

I handed the apple to Helen, and scanned her face for some sort of recognition. Her broad smile widened as I did so, and her eyes flitted to Monty, then back to me, and the eye opposite him closed in a slow wink.

"Oh, Ok, Wisdom! You went for the lowest prize? I mean, everybody has their own..."

As Monty continued to speak, the local video monitors began flashing, and the opening to Let's Make a Deal began to Play, with the sound of the announcer amplified.

"AND NOW, AMERICA'S TOP TRADER, TV'S BIG DEALER!"

"MONTY HALL!" The crowd onscreen cheered in joy, as the crown in the audience looked on baffled.

The Picture Froze on a freeze frame of Monty Hall's Smiling Face.

"MONTY IS LYING TO YOU!" Read large bold letters over his face.

The soft sound of sinister music began floating from the overhead, as a soft sound of feedback began to cross the speakers. The Microphone fell away from Monty's lips as he stared at the screen along with everyone else, watching the sight of Helen and I leaning against a bus.

"A grotesque is a game you're not expected to win," Helen's voice echoed from the Screen. "And a lot of people lie. Bad guys win, Brent. It happens all the time. But the game's over."

The Shot switched to a rapid sequence of Monty zonking thousands of people, watching their faces fall as others were rewarded right next to them for following orders.

"I think it's important to be close to the people who I care about." Her voice echoed again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, ladies and gentlemen! If you'll please bear with us! We're experiencing technical difficulties!" Monty raised his hands and addressed the audience, and I noted that no neon signs had come on above us.

"Bullshit!" Called nearly every single person in the room.

Helen pulled the huge brown owl hood from her head, and easily stripped off the big bulky costume, revealing her standard garb, although this time accentuated by multiple weapons.

"What the... where did you get those?" I mumbled, scanning the hardware as she dramatically cocked a rifle.

"Blank Room. Smart people steal good ideas." She stated flatly, before taking aim at a security guard dressed in full riot armor and face shield. He brought his weapon up as she did so, and I wan't surprised at all when he collapsed in response to a burst of automatic fire.

"Crap! I need a line here" I accepted the weapon that Helen handed me with a smirk, and checked it. "Uh... what was it... little hand says..."

"Too late, Moment's Lost!" Helen Fired again, shoving me behind one of the small dividers as a rain of bullets scored across the audience cutting several of them down in a burst of gore.

"What the hell happened?" I ducked behind a divider, peeking up as yet another burst of fire occurred. The screams and stampeding audience members just added to the panic as a random explosion occurred, causing a flaming chariot wheel to roll across the stage.

"Didn't you watch... oh right, you wouldn't have seen any of that, you weren't onscreen... Joan and I came up with this plan, and I'm kinda impressed that she pulled it off. Just depended on following the rules..." Helen nodded, slapping a fresh magazine into her rifle and then handing me a grenade that had landed at our feet. "Get rid of this for me, would you, love?"

I blanked for a moment before realizing that she's handed me a live grenade. I hurled it one handed as rapidly as possible, and the Wilhelm in response brought a tear to my eye.

"So what's the plan..." I mumbled, looking to see that Kaila was now engaged in a gun fu sequence involving four pistols and moves that the Hong Kong Stunt double had assured is wouldn't seem out of place at all. The acrobatic flip over the position where Charlotte was using a large sniper rifle was perfectly timed, and I momentarily wondered where she was hiding it, before remembering how many ruffles that damn dress had.

"Uhm... let's see... standard one. Broadcast the truth, kill the bad guy, kiss the girl." Helen kissed me rapidly. "Let's just get that part out of the way."

"Is there a particular reason why Joan's hitting bad guys with a Circus Mallet?" I glanced over the woman in the hawk girl costume as she applied another cranial readjustment. "And how did everybody get else get guns?"

"Come ON, Brent, this is AMERICA!!!! And.. Well EVERYBODY can't use guns, that's just going to bore the audience..." Joan shouted, somehow able to hear what I was saying.

"Right... right..." I nodded, concentrating on another wave of black clad enforcers who were easily dispatched, but not before they killed several extras, thus proving their evilness.

I looked over at Carla, who merely sat in her seat, ignoring the huge sea of destruction and **** around her. She looked up at my questioning gaze.

"This isn't really my thing. You all have fun." She smiled as the security guard who was creeping up behind her was transfixed into a seat by an arrow. My eyes traveled along the flight path, to find Nikki onstage, dressed in a knee length toga and fixing another arrow to a familiar looking golden bow.

After a few more moments of **** and destruction the stage was nearly deserted. All that was left was the random prizes, smoking ruins of boxes, a flaming curtain, and a few black clad bodies lying about that were nicely unidentifiable as actual human beings.

I noted Monty, creeping very quietly behind one of the large boxes on stage.

"Hey King of the Beach... " I called up to him, causing him to freeze. "I've got a good feeling here."

Monty didn't move, turning to look at me nervously. He bit his lip, then his face broke into a broad grin as I approached him, a band of five armed women behind me and another in the audience, politely ignoring the whole thing.

"You look pissed, Brent. Believe me, you got every right to be. But, hey, will you – will you just let me explain?" Monty Began, pointing to the empty seats.

"This is porn. That's all it is. It's nothing to do with Characters. It's to do with the winning." Monty explained, gesturing to the prizes.

"For fifty years, we've told them what to find hot, what to be afraid of, what to wear to turn someone on. For Christ's sake, Brent, don't you understand? Americans don't want to THINK!" Monty explained.

"Listen, they love Humiliation, they love Power. They love betrayal and emotional pain." Monty spoke more rapidly, his hands coming forward in a pleading gesture.

"So what do we do? We give 'em what they want! We're number One, Brent. Top of the Recommended List! That's all that counts. Believe me. I've been in the business thirty years."

"Well I haven't been in show business as long as you have, Monty but I'm a quick learner. So I'm going to give the audience what I think they want."

I walked across the stage to the Bright Blue Police Box and unlocked it eagerly. The door swung open and I looked inside.

"That is... wow that's gorgeous in there..." I looked back at the women, who eyed me questioningly. "Best way I can think of to make sure that everybody gets a room."

A wild whoop of excitement burst from the small crowd as they rushed past me, and I heard the calls of "DIBS" and counter calls of "Shotgun" and "Grow Up" as the throng entered the box.

Monty dropped his hand to the side and watched as I stepped into the box. As I closed the door I heard his voice loudly.

"You bastard! Won't even give me a decent... Go to Hell!"

"I've already been there." I grinned back and closed the door as the soft sound of whirring began to echo.

Credit Music

OR

Credit Music (If you prefer to wonder if this is a happy ending or not.)