Day Three: Early Morning

[Orion]

The clapping died down as a camera zoomed in on him, operated by a bipedal horse. The surroundings of the game show had altered, but only slightly, to what appeared to be a large lounge room with huge windows to the back, overlooking the sparkling lights of a metropolis at midnight. Orion sat behind a wide, mahogany desk with a stack of papers underneath his clasped hands. His hair had morphed from his normal, layered black hair to short, curly brown hair, completely unlike any style of his race. A sudden gap appeared between his front teeth, and he had the urge to act in a way that conflicted with his normal behaviour.

For now, he gave into it. "Welcome back," he spoke, his tone informal and breezy.

He looked beyond Seventeen, his only guest sitting in the aforementioned chair to Orion's right, to a large ensemble of humans wielding instruments such as guitars, drums and brass instruments. The leader of the musicians, another carbon copy of Seventeen, was at the head of them behind a keyboard. Well, he was identical to Seventeen, except that he was completely bald and sported perfect circle glasses.

"OK, let's hear tonight's Top Ten!" Orion declared, the crowd applauding as the orchestra played the intro for the segment. "Tonight's Top Ten iiiiiiis..." he elongated the last word to create suspense, "possibilities for Rad to lose!"

Despite not knowing who Rad was, Orion felt he was the authority on dispensing jokes on this contestant's chances. On a nearby monitor, a pretty graphical representation appeared and each answer faded upon it as the saiyan read it out.

"Number ten, gets distracted by a rogue thought about tacos; number nine," he said, the crowd laughing after each line. "His hair becomes sentient and chokes him; number eight, tries to turn on his group but they're ready for him; number seven, ingests taco despite the fact that he knows its poisoned; number six, tries to play frisbee with his collar and instead is left to play 52 pickup with fragments of his skull; number five, calling Eightzu fat and kicking his own ass; number four, gets bored and wanders off into a danger zone just to see how it feels; number three, the waffles Rad made orphans of finally find him and beat him up; number two, Karl Jak decides that he's found his new 'life partner'..."

"And the number one possibility of Rad losing Dante's Abyss is ... ingesting a taco despite the fact that he knows it's poison!"

The crowd clapped excitedly again, intertwining with the fanfare Schaffer-Seventeen and his band produced.

Orion laughed at himself a little longer. "He sure loves those tacos, huh? Tonight's guest is an interesting fellow. He's just entered a contest called Dante's Abyss for the third time, hoping to win ... or is he? Everyone, please give a warm hand for Seventeen!"

Seventeen nodded his head to the eruption of applause, in fact the loudest bout of cheer the show had received thus far.

"Thank you, thank you," he said with a smile on his face. "So, why was there a joke about Rad eating a poisoned taco twice?"

"Oh, that's to emphasise the fact that he loves tacos," Orion answered.

"Yeah, he sure does love those tacos," Shaffer-Seventeen added superfluously.

"Ah yes, yes," Seventeen remarked.

"Oh, Orion? I've done up a quick salute to tacos, if you'd like to hear it," the bald headed Schaffer knock off offered.

"Why not?" he responded, motioning with his hand.

He started pounding the keyboard, creating a light hearted tune as he sung, "Raaaaad, and those crazy tacos!" He repeated the same line three times before singing it again an octave higher.

Orion caught himself. He finally gained a hold of himself, realising that his mind was becoming too involved within Seventeen's. The mind meld was great to get to the inner person, but staying within the subconscious for too long, and allowing themselves to become part of the proceedings. Orion realised, thankfully, that he was in the best position now to start asking the questions he wanted to.

"So, Seventeen, your third year in Dante's Abyss," he began, playing the Earthling entertainment character as best he could, "are you enjoying it so far?"

"Enjoying might be stretching it a bit," he began, placing one foot upon the knee of his other leg. "But all in all, it hasn't been a horrible experience."

Orion noticed a form of lucidity that Seventeen was beginning to display more consistently. The mystery only seemed to get deeper.

"Well, if it was I guess you wouldn't be returning," the saiyan host replied, making a note of it himself. "Do you remember the fight that you and I were in?"

"Ah, that green guy," Seventeen said, as if recalling a distant but fond memory. "Yes, I believe he jumped you, then ..." His optimistic facade suddenly fell, his recollection returning nothing. "Uh ..."

Orion noted his reaction with intrigue.

"Well, he must've got burnt or something, 'cause then he was on the ground without a head. So, I don't know." He put his hands behind his head, acting casual and carefree again. "Did you see it?"

He doesn't remember it? the veteran warrior thought to himself. He was the one who killed him, but he can't recall it? Orion looked around the studio for a moment, but there was no one else there. If he was schitzophrenic, there should've been another manifestation nearby.

"What actually happened was this," the saiyan responded, pointing to a descending monitor that was being fed the memory of Retane's fiery death as he remembered it. Seventeen watched himself pull the trigger of the ki gun and obliterate the Namekian foe with a mixture of horror and confusion. The crowd was silent.

"So," Orion took a breath, prepared to get the answer he was after all along, "how is it that you changed from an incompetent fighter to a sharpshooting sniper?"