Ruby

Ruby had been in her trailer, sitting down to enjoy a freshly-delivered breakfast and some peace. The contestants and Michael were still asleep, and there was nothing particularly pressing. A nice moment to relax, which was rare for a host under normal circumstances - even less so in hers. This was, like most happy moments, broken by Al. Not by Al specifically, though by a staff member pounding on her door to deliver Ruby a note that there’d be an event in the theater imminently and would she kindly join them? It was Al that had commanded the poor staff to pound the door, so it wasn’t the staff member’s fault. But, as Al wasn’t around and that poor sap was, Ruby lashed out and had him out digging and filling a large ditch in the desert behind the hotel.

So, five-minutes later, having thrown herself together faster than a firefighter after a siren, Ruby had strode through the doors of the theater to find … no one. She was the first person to arrive.

Al tells me about this five minutes ago, and he still manages to be late. Unbelievable.

The Hotel’s theater was dramatically decorated, Ruby admitted to herself, even if the whole scene gave off the air of someone with an unlimited budget but a shortage of time and a total dearth of good sense.

Al had split the room straight down the middle and assigned each half a theme. On Ruby’s left, the tables were festooned with red and gold tablecloths, and on each sat an extremely large centerpiece of a life-sized Native American warrior sitting cross-legged. To her right, the tables were green and white, with similarly ostentatious bald eagles perched on small stands. Against the wall behind each side was a different buffet-spread of food. Both seemed to center on meat dishes, and despite everything being hastily arranged, they had apparently been left on the burners too long - the large room was permeated with the smell of burnt beef. Ruby waved her hand in front of her nose, but it was no use.

I could clear it with magic, but I’m not his goddamned cleaning lady.

“At least it’s not his cigar smoke.” A voice said from behind her, and Ruby whirled around to find Sarah standing behind her.

“How long have you been there?”

“I came in right behind you,” Sarah shrugged. “You were both pretty goddamned insistent that I not be late again, and it's not like it takes me a long time to get ready any more.” Sarah ropes writhed around her nude form with something Ruby could tell was pride, though Sarah was clearly not praising them.

“At least pull a brush through your hair.” Ruby complained, but it wasn’t really Sarah’s fault any more than it was that of the staff member out shoveling.

“All you said was ‘on time,’ so I was on time. You want pretty, do it after noon. What the hell time is it, anyway?” Sarah spied a rolling tub filled with ice and cans of beer and grabbed one for herself.

“About 6 A.M.”

”What in the world is wrong with you people?”

A lot. If we weren’t shooting, I’d join you. Ruby thought. The doors at the back of the theater opened, and the rest of the cast started to come in, none looking any more eager to be there than Ruby or Sarah did. Rhonda and Danica had at least thrown on some jeans, while the others were still in their nightclothes.

“Does this have to be so earrrrrly?” Mallory slurred. Her eyes got wide upon seeing Sarah clutching a beer, and Mallory pushed past to grab one for herself and begin chugging.

“I’ll… get some coffee.” Danica said, still looking disapprovingly at Mallory’s behavior, but seemingly lacking the energy to try correcting it in the moment. She headed off to the currently vacant service station in the back, looking for a pot.

“Mallory has a point,” Michael asked, sidling up next to Ruby. “What is it that has to be done so early? This set-up is… strange.”

Where the opening night introductions had been held, the stage was now converted to a movie screen. Where the cast and hosts would ordinarily be on the stage, now there was a row of lounge chairs arranged in a large semi-circle, facing that screen.

Away from the audience…? What? Ruby was legitimately perplexed at this point, Is he planning a …movie night?

“Ahhhh! That one moved! It moved!” Janet screamed, pointing at the eagle on the table nearest to where she was standing. Ruby whipped over to look, and sure enough, its head was jerking around, taking in the newcomers.

Oh you can’t be serious. Ruby looked over, sure enough, Al was serious. It wasn’t just the eagles, but now the Native “centerpieces” were themselves coming around.

“For fuck’s sake…” Ruby muttered, waving her hands to release the staff from the spell that Al used to keep them sedated. In her haste, Ruby failed to realize this would lift the spell for everything in the room. The eagles panicked and immediately took off, screeching around as they searched for open sky. Some of the braver or more **** ones attacked the buffet trays. Janet was first under the tables, but the other contestants, the staff, and Michael were not far behind. All except Mallory, still drunkenly watching the birds swoop back and forth, fighting for dominance, looking for a way to escape, and generally shitting all over the place as birds do.

“That’s funny as hellllll.” Mallory said, cracking her second beer.

“Fly Eagles Fly.” Al voice boomed as he sauntered through the doors, looking totally at home in the chaos.

“You mind telling me what the hell you’re doing?” Ruby demanded. She made finger guns and sparks shot from her fingers at the birds, each one disappearing in a puff of smoke as she hit them.

“Don’t kill them!” Janet screamed, grabbing at Ruby’s ankle from under the nearby table.

“I thought you were scared of them.” Ruby said with her usual dismissive tone.

“Yeah, but I don’t want them to die! They’re endangered!”

“They’re magical, Janet! What are you, fucking PETA now?! Fine, I’ll just send them outside!” Ruby rolled her eyes. With one hand, she reached back towards the doors of the theater, pulling them open as if with an invisible tug. Then, she spread the fingers on both hands and brought them together, causing a large net to appear in the air and constrict around the birds, yanking them all into a tight, struggling, cacophonous ball. One last gesture sent it crashing through the door and across the gaming floor towards freedom.

As the others slowly emerged from their refuge under the tables, Ruby spun on Al. “The question stands: What the hell are you doing?”

“Throwing a party!” Al said, spreading his hands and gesturing to it all. “The other Hotels were celebrating their holidays, I wanted some of that same energy, baby.”

“What the hell holiday is this?”

“The only holiday that matters to degenerate gamblers, the Super Bowl!” Al smiled broadly.

“Hold on,” Michael said, having made it to his feet and helped up the others. “You took us in April, we’ve been here for almost a year?”

“Time works differently here in the Hotel, Mikey. I thought you’d noticed when we literally flipped day and night, but I’m glad you finally came around.”

“Hence the 6 AM curtain call…” Ronnie groaned. She looked at the food that hadn’t been touched by the attacking birds, but Vivian quickly shook her head to warn her off.

Al slapped Michael on the back. “Don’t worry about the calendar, we’ll drop ya back so you won’t miss too much time.”

“Does that mean we’d know who’s going to win a year early?” Vivian asked, now looking interested.

“You’ve got a chance to win an actual magic wish here, toots.” said Al, sharply. “Try to have a bigger imagination. Besides, we'll wipe the result from your silly brains once its over. We can't have you trying to change the outcome, Harem Hotel has a strict non-interference policy in sporting events. Except for one time.”

"What was that time?" Michael asked.

"We made Janet Jackson's titty fall out. You're welcome, America."

"Hold up," Luciana cut in. "You kidnapped me right before my fight, why didn't that count?"

"Ok, so except for two times, we have a strict non-interference policy." Al said, ending the discussion.

“You dragged everyone here on five minutes’ notice to watch a football game? Is this even going to be aired?” Ruby asked, her incredulity reaching heretofore unseen heights.

“Eh, probably not.” Al admitted with a shrug. “It’ll be fun though.”

“Four hours with you will not be fun,” Ronnie said. “If this isn’t an official challenge, I’m going back to bed.”

“Gotta stay to play.” Al called after her before she reached the door. That caught her attention. Al smirked and withdrew a stack of papers from his coat pocket. He tossed them in the air, and they shot off to each contestant’s hand. Michael and Ruby didn’t get one, so Ruby snatched the paper from Janet’s grip, who was closest:

“The game is Super Bowl Squares,” Al said. “Last digit of each team’s score makes a square, 5 VPs for each quarter, 10 VPs for the final score.”

“You can’t just randomly award VPs, Al. There are rules.” Ruby said.

“Rules, huh? Interesting.” Al said. Though Ruby couldn’t see his eyes behind the ever-present shades, she could almost feel them flit to Vivian. Ruby said nothing, betrayed nothing. Al continued. “As long as it’s fair odds, it’s fair game. Every girl has got a share of the board.”

“You can’t evenly divide 100 by 7, Al.” Sarah joined the chorus of complaints.

“The extra spots went to the girls on the bottom of the leaderboard,” Al shrugged. “You wanna make a federal case out of it, or you wanna watch a goddamn game?”

Ruby threw up her hands, exasperated. “Fine! We’re all here anyway, let’s just do this damned thing and be done with it. Who’s fucking playing? Tom Brady again?”

“Nah, he retired a few weeks ago.” Al said mournfully.

“Wait, Brady was still playing!?” Ronnie asked, “My season was fifteen years ago and he’d already been in for years.”

“His harem hotel season was…twenty-four years ago.” Al tapped his chin. “Yeah that sounds about right.”

“Hold up, time out.” Ronnie was really agitated now. “HE was on this show?”

“Of course, you think that skinny little twerp could have won all those titles or married a billionaire supermodel without magic?” Al mimed taking off a hat and holding it over his heart. “Or gotten away with nearly as much skullduggery without my solemn mentoring? He’s my greatest pupil.”

“I knew it! I fucking knew there was something off the whole time!” Ronnie jumped up and cheered, her mood suddenly brighter than it had been in days. And from Al, no less. She grabbed a couple drinks and joined the others as they filled up the recliners around the TV.

The rest of the staff began entering the theater as the large screen kicked on, filling the room with the sounds of pre-game announcer patter and the low murmur of the staff’s conversations. Ruby saw none of the usual hexes that puppeteered them, and briefly was worried they might try something dramatic. But Al seemed totally unperturbed, and threw an unwelcome arm around Ruby’s waist.

“I figured I’d give them a few hours off,” He said, as the marginally-famous country music singer onscreen launched into Star-Spangled Banner. “What are holidays for, after all?”

[AN: My next major plot chapter was giving me trouble, so switched it up and put together this silly little one. Rules for Super Bowl Squares are here, if you want to know more or set it up yourselves.

Post-game update:
1st Quarter - KC 7 - PHI 7 - +5 for Vivian
2nd Quarter - KC 14 - PHI 24 - +5 for Vivian
3rd Quarter - KC 21 - PHI 27 - +5 for Sarah
Final - KC 38 - PHI 35 - +10 for Janet

I will include a score update in the next chapter, including the results of Vivian's vote. Thanks for playing!]