Better think again, your Highness

Blazing light seems to be the central theme of the awful joke that is your whole world right now... blazing, blinding light and oh, now there's heat as well.

...and it's not some sunny summers day kind of heat or slaving over a hot stove in a busy kitchen kind of heat. No, this is a flesh cooking, skin crackling, hotter than hell and half of Georgia type of heat that has you moaning in pain and gasping for any manner of relief.

What the hell kind of job interview process is this anyway?! Did these people, whoever 'they' were, routinely knock out prospective employees and drop them into stage-lit toaster ovens? Are you being hazed right now?!

With labored breaths you try to open your eyes then immediately squint them shut again... nope! That sun is burning bright, threatening to fry your eyeballs right into your skull but at least your headache is gone now... so chalk that one up in the win column? That is a questionable prospect as with the thumping headache gone your attention is freed to note the litany of other aches and pains you are experiencing, what fun.

Chronic sunburn, check. Deep tissue muscle aches, check. Throat parching dehydration, check check and double check.

You've never felt so thirsty in your life! Your tongue feels like a stiff piece of boot leather while your mouth and throat taste like someone has vacuumed all the moisture out then packed them with dust and sand. What the hell did they do to you? All you wanted was a passably interesting summer job, not to be **** by the Human Resources version of Jeffrey Dahmer!

So... what? Couldn't they find any handy train tracks to tie you onto? The very least they could do is give you the dignity of dying in some dramatic fashion! What ever happened to showmanship?! This was going to be one boring-ass obituary - Cause of ****: Uninspired Character Audition.

"Oh dear, you don't look so good... we had best get this over quick. Why are you here and what is it that you want?"

The voice is as light and musical in quality as it is unexpected. Is it over now? Do you get the job? Hell, after all this do you still even want it?

"P-Prince... I'll be your... Prince." Your tongue feels impossibly thick in your mouth but you manage to push the words out through cracked lips, "H-handsome... Ch-charming... Dashing... H-hung, whatever you want... p-please..."

Oh please god, just let you get out of this alive! You'll go to church, say your prayers, light candles and everything! ...or light a candle at the very least, church and praying kinda sounds like a big time investment.

The voice laughs and it sounds pretty, like tinkling bells - as if you cared right now.

"Whatever I want? Ummm, sure. OK, what else?"

Are they toying with you at a time like this?! Did they even care that you are probably dying on the ground right in front of them?! Fine then...

"Help... H-help me... please!" You're not above a little begging and if this woman is as pretty as she sounds then begging pretty women to do stuff is just a standard Friday night out for you, no big deal.

"Help you... Oooookay... sure. Anything else?" She is sounding more uncertain now but seems happy enough to play along with whatever game she thinks you think you are playing.

Which is none, nothing, nada. Whatever she might be thinking, right now the truth is that you are honestly being as guileless as a rubber truncheon.

You are so done with all this, fuck the job. Chuck E. Cheese doesn't require potential new hires to hop across vats of boiling fryer oil, walk barefoot over flaming grills or swim through boiling rivers of molten cheese - so where did these assholes get off on thinking themselves so damn special?! You haven't so much as smelled a hint of cheesy bread since arriving here so screw them!

You're done and you want out. Right. Fucking. Now!

"I- I just... want to... g-g-go home." For all the boiling vitriol you bare in your heart for the eponymous 'them' or whomever put you in this awful situation the words you manage to squeeze out sound weak with all the heat of a flaccid trouser noodle.

"Done, done and done! The deal is made, the pact is spoken, from here on after it shan't be broken! Now hold onto your ass Baby, this is going to be fun!"

Wait, what?

BBRIIIIIING!!

Oh great, more bright, blinding light...