Both of his competitors were inside the waiting room when he arrived.

Charli33 wore his fancy red coat. However, he now paired it with a nice pair of black dress pants and a black flat cap. He smiled and waved as Jester pushed open the door.

“Hey,” he said, with an edge of nervousness. “How’s it going?”

“Better if I knew what was happening fully,” Jester admitted.

Glasshopper was off to the side. She was leaning against a wall with her cape pulled around her like a shroud. Not that it hid much. The translucent material allowing him to see the bark and vine sundress below it.

When he looked her way, she simply nodded and said nothing. Her eyes lingering on Happy Hour for a bit.

That didn’t surprise him. The bright yellow costume was a lot to take in.

Even on the walk here, players stared. No one even tossed a lewd comment towards them. All too confused about the get-up itself. Jester couldn’t blame them. It was an odd choice. But, he supposed, that made sense for a last-minute scramble.

“Happy Hour’s all better than?” Charli33 asked, as he rose from his seat.

Beside him, Happy Hour, or Captain Joy, as she was calling herself, saluted.

She clinked as she did. The round smoke grenades on her belt smacking against each other. Kylee laughed as she watched him paint on the three black lines onto the yellow explosives.

They weren’t her sole piece of equipment, however.

She also wore an oversized grappling hook that was slung across her back. The thing was massive, and not what he’d been expecting when Kylee mentioned it.

He’d assumed it would be something small and handheld. More of a James Bond gadget.

Instead, Kylee’s idea was to paint a harpoon gun.

She’d designed it originally for some whale headed robot whose owner flaked on paying. Upon its transformation, she’d positively gleeful. A little too much, in his opinion. Though, if the credit amount she whispered was accurate, he didn’t blame her.

“I am. Thank you for your concern, citizen.” Her voice boomed out in the small space, and Glasshopper winced.

Jester put a hand on her shoulder. It felt strange. The soft material doing little to hide the obvious tactical gear underneath.

“Perhaps not so loud, Captain?”

“I suppose,” she lowered her volume a fraction. “Though how will my enemies know to fear if they can not hear me?”

“Captain?” Glasshopper’s whisper was almost inaudible.

When both the men in the room turned to look at her, she turned her head away. Both of her hands clenched, and one of her legs started to shake. Jester shook his head. How did someone this nervous get so far?

And why even sign up for an event this big?

“Yeah, she gave herself a code-name. Part of the superhero thing,” He explained before Happy Hour could.

She’d already launched into a fifteen-minute explanation of her name to the last person who asked. In which she talked about battles that didn’t happen, and tragic backstories that couldn’t exist.

Not unless she had a host of dead family members that DollmakerMC never mentioned to anyone. Though, considering all the other contradictions, he was certain she’d made it up. Rich AI overlords neither existed, nor adopted Androids to train them for crime fighting.

“Oh. That’s interesting.” Glasshopper’s tone was diplomatic.

“Yeah,” Charli33 agreed. “Though I think I preferred the bee outfit. Hive outfit? Did it have a name?”

“I called it her Beegown.”

That got a laugh from both of them, to his surprise. He smiled in returned. It was nice to chat with players like this.

“So, what do you think this will be?” Glasshopper asked.

“A three-way fight.” Charli33 gestured towards the closed doors. “They’ll want to keep this simple.”

“That would make it hard to knock out only one in any fair way.” Jester looked at both of his competitors. “One side could team up.”

“It would be drama,” Glasshopper whispered. “They like that.”

He couldn’t disagree with that statement. They did like drama. The issue was it wouldn’t be much of a challenge. No matter how pleasant they were being, he suspected them to gang up on him. With their skills in a big arena? Happy Hour would be the obvious target.

Her outfit would make sure she stood out no matter the arena.

“Maybe it’s a team challenge?” Jester suggested as he thought about it. “We all have to work together to complete a task. Someone votes on the next round?”

“Nah, you’d lose that easy.” Charli33 shrugged when he saw Jester’s look. “No offense.”

“None taken, I get it.”

He slumped against the wall with a sigh. Happy Hour reached out and lightly slapped his shoulder.

“Cheer up, citizen. Don’t let the sadness win!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jester shook his head. “I guess we’ll be finding out soon.”

“Maybe,” Glasshopper said.

“Maybe?”

“We’ve been here for a while,” Charli33 supplied. “Kinda figured that when you turned up, things would kick off.”

“Ahh.” He nodded. “So, another big arena, then? We had to wait an age when they did the maze.”

Both Glasshopper and Charli33 nodded. Neither looked happy about it. The room fell into silence after that. All of them flicking glances towards the closed doors.

One opened, but it wasn’t the door he’d been expecting. Chester walked in from the main Colosseum chamber bearing a small tray stacked with cakes. The weight of it forced the younger clerk to hunch over, his expression nervous.

“I am sorry,” he said, voice cracking. “We are experiencing some difficulties with the arena.”

“Not your fault.” Jester waved at him. “Thanks for letting us know.”

“No, um, no problem.” He bowed as he started to walk away.

“Wait.” Happy Hour’s voice was back to booming.

Chester paused.

“You look down.”

In two strides she was by Chester’s side. He flinched away, but she didn’t seem to notice. Nor care if she did. With one hand on his shoulder, she squeezed as she stared into his eyes.

“It will be ok. You're doing well. Don’t let this get you down.”

To his surprise, Chester smiled. Not only that, but he beamed. His posture straitening, and he nodded.

“Yes, thank you.” There was no squeak to his words, and he walked out with his head held high.

“What the hell?” Charli33 said. “She can do that?”

“Happy Hour is special.”

He didn’t know what she’d done himself. That was an odd interaction, even for her. As he watched her walk back to his side, he shook his head. Didn’t matter. Plus, if he was honest with himself, it’d been nice. Chester always seemed so nervous.

Good to see him smiling for a change.

“Well, at least they’re feeding us.” Charli33 moved towards the food cart, then paused with his hands outstretched.

“What?” Jester asked.

“It’s charged.” His voice sounded annoyed. “This is an apology, and they’re charging us for it.”

Glasshopper laughed so hard she doubled over. Not even seeming to notice the way both men stared at her. With one hand, she wiped her eyes. When she saw them staring, she looked away. Her cap wrapping her even more tightly.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” Jester waved at her.

“Joy is never wrong, citizen. Express yourself in any non-destructive way you wish!”

He couldn’t interpret the look she threw towards Happy Hour at that. However, she released her cape a small amount. That was good to see.

“I can’t believe that they have the gall to charge for this,” Charli33 groused again.

“You can’t believe the company that nickels and dimes everything would do this?” Jester snorted.

“Not right now. Even they should have some standards.”

“They don’t.” Glasshopper shifted away from the wall and approached the cart with hesitant footsteps. “Never have.”

“Hear, hear!” Jester cheered at that.

When she flinched, he apologized.

“Sorry, but yeah, I agree.”

“Are you going to grab anything?” Charli33 asked. His annoyance clearly not overwashing his desire to eat. Packets of hot chips and two drinks were already in his arms.

“No, not right now.”

Charli33 shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

The sound of the other two chowing down filled his ears as he continued to watch the door. Chester said something was wrong with the arena. What? Some sort of bug? That made him wonder what was out there.

They must have designed something complicated for it to break like this.

Before Charli33 could finish his third soda, the doors opened. A small robot came out, round and glowing. Above it, Grasshopper’s name appeared as a small hologram.

She didn’t speak, and instead waved to both him and Charli33.

Within moments, she’d walked out of the room, leaving the two of them alone.

“Captain Joy?” he asked.

“Yes citizen.”

“Are you ready for this?”

Stolen story; please report.

“I am.”

He sighed with relief and tried to relax. He watched the door, expecting it to open to grab the others. However, it stayed resolutely shut. Another fifteen minutes passed before the robot and Glasshopper came out.

She didn’t say a word as she crossed the room and left.

Charli33 was up next.

He gave Jester a thumbs up as he downed his drink and moved inside.

Now they were alone.

With a sigh, he hoped that the wait wouldn’t be as long.

***

It turned out to be longer.

Jester was chatting with Happy Hour for most of it. He listened to her tell stories about the super villains she faced. All of them ended in laughter, or some sort of miniature counseling. That was the way of Captain Joy, it seemed.

He couldn’t help but wonder how that would affect her fighting style.

If this turned out to be some kind of brawl, pacifism wouldn’t help them here.

When the door re-opened once again, Jester pushed himself to his feet. Charli33 reappeared, but now he was wearing a mask. Not anything complicated. A fabric piece that covered his mouth and nose.

He didn’t so much as look Jester’s way as he walked past. Though his shoulders were shaking. Anger or laughter? With the mask, it was impossible to tell.

Jester watched him go, concerned. It was a strange sight.

The robot beeped, getting his attention.

“Right, right I’m coming.”

He turned to Happy Hour, who was looking at him. Her mask etched into an eternal smile. One that he couldn’t help but admit made him want to smile, too. It was such a stupid design.

“Alright Captain.” Jester saluted her. “Are you ready for this mission?”

“Of course!” Happy Hour exclaimed. “No time to dawdle in the pursuit of joy!”

“True enough.”

With his piece said, he turned and followed the small robot into the room.

It was, as he expected, the same as last time. The screens were off, and the teleport platform was silent. He moved to the chair as Happy Hour shifted to her spot in the middle of the room.

He’d expected the robot to leave, but it didn’t. Instead, it stood there, the words waiting floating over its head.

Jester snorted.

“Really? Didn’t we do enough of that out there?”

Happy Hour turned to him and flashed him a thumbs up. As he saw the yellow material, he couldn’t help but wonder if he should have worn DollmakerMC’s old suit. At least they’d match them.

“Peace and patients are a joy in themselves.” Her words were soft, though still filled with enthusiasm for the topic. “All will be well. Do not fret.”

“I know, sorry. You’re right.” He sighed.

It was hard to be annoyed with her when she was like this. His own bright yellow smiley stress ball. Or maybe a living ‘Hang In There’ poster? Either all, it was strangely motivating to have her around.

He’d need to hope the crowd reacted the same way, regardless of what awaited them.

The screens flickered on after what felt like an eternity.

Their message was light on details, barely more than a line. It didn’t even have the normal blue background.

Today the challenge is simple, get to the end without dying.

That was all it said. He looked towards Happy Hour, who didn’t even glance at the screen. She was looking at him. Her posture made him think she was waiting for something. What though?

With no other ideas, he waved to her.

“Good Luck Captain. Fight well. Show them joy.”

“As you wish, citizen.”

With that, she was gone.

His attention shifted towards the screen. They flickered and buzzed before the image finally showed up. It was another Arial shot of the arena. Though as it zoomed over the crowd, they were silent. Staring. There was no sign of anything in the middle of the arena.

Strange.

Jester bit his lip as he watched the camera slowly spin about. Where was she meant to get to?

That was when the jet of flame roared into the sky. Some players gasped, but from the look of indifference he understood this wasn’t new. Still, he couldn’t help being impressed. As the fire faded away, he could see a new hologram took its place. This one was no maze.

It was a long, long hallway.

Happy Hour was at one end, and the word goal floated at the other. Simple, which made him worried.

Once more the camera spun, and as he watched, the hallway widened. Sections of the floor grew upwards into climbing walls. Others dropped to reveal pits of crackling green sludge.

Robotic arms burst from the wall, and there was a hum of something charging in the air. A sound that was pursued by a series of laser blinking into view. Each pointed at insane angles like a spy movie.

Jester couldn’t help it.

He laughed and laughed hard.

This couldn’t have been more perfect. She was a superhero breaking into a super villain’s lair. All they needed was someone to deliver a monologue. Perhaps shout at her for being a fool. Underneath him, his chair squeak as he leaned back.

Now he wished he’d bought some snacks. They would have gone well with the show.

A timer flickered to life above the holographic representation of the death trap.

As soon as an electronic voice screamed go, it climbed upwards. Jester nodded. So, that was how they were doing this. A time trial. Though he suspected more than that was involved. Otherwise, certain robots would win with little effort.

Happy Hour took the hint and jumped into a stereotypical hero pose. Legs spread shoulder width apart with her hands on her hips.

“Come trap master! We shall see who rues the day! You will know joy!”

Laughter rippled from the crowd as she started down the singular path. There wasn’t much to do at the start. All she needed to do was run. The stone floor churned under her feet as she moved.

Then he saw the issue.

She wasn’t moving forward.

Stones shifted beneath her, but not how they should. A disguised treadmill. One designed to keep her in place.

Not that it seemed to bother her. When she worked out what was happening, she jumped and twisted sideways. Her height allowing her to lay her arms flat against one wall and her feet on the other. There she hung, suspended above the stone treadmill.

“Haha!” Happy Hour cried out. “You will see your tricks have no effect on me, cretin!!”

She shuffled along, never letting her hands or feet lose contact with the wall for more than a second. Only when she made it a few feet past the end of the treadmill did she lower herself.

Her feet hit the ground first, and she snapped up from her bent over position with a flourish. Someone in the crowd cheered, which was soon picked up on.

Happy Hour pointed down the corridor and let out another enthusiastic laugh.

“See, Trap Master! Is this not fun for you? Because it brings me joy!”

No one answered, but that didn’t seem to matter to her. Instead, she continued forward. She dodged a series of arrows that fired from a wall. Dove over a swinging axe that left dents in either wall. Shimmied along a rail that hung suspended over a crackling lake of electricity.

Nothing seemed to stop her until she got to The Wall.

The thing was massive, and completely sheer. Jester knew this would have been one obstacle Inectorz would have no issues with. It would have climbed it without a thought. Spokes would have managed as well. Enough speed and it could have rocketed up.

Happy Hour, however, seemed stymied. She paced at the bottom, putting a gloved hand on the wall.

He wondered if she was looking for handholds. None came. Though there must be some trick to it. They wouldn’t, couldn’t, make a challenge that was impossible to complete.

With a shrug of her shoulders, she removed the grappling harpoon gun from her back. It was ridiculous in her arms. Though she didn’t appear to have any issue when she swung it about.

He could hear a loud boom when it fired. The sound easily enough to overwhelm the cheering crowd. Whatever Kylee had in mind when she made it, subtlety wasn’t a part of it. The hook flew upwards, moving with speed over the top of the wall.

It caught with a clink, and two tugs showed it was solid.

She strapped it once more to her back and hit a button on the side. As the rope winched up, she placed herself flat against the wall.

Jester watched in fascination as she strode up the sheer surface.

His eyes flicked to the timer. Ten minutes were already gone. He hoped the next section wouldn’t take any longer.

***

Happy Hour hit the ground on the other slide of the wall to a round of applause.

Jester couldn’t help but join in, even alone in the waiting room. It was an impressive spectacle. One, he knew, would have nothing on what was coming next. She darted forward after she once again strapped the harpoon to her back.

Robotic appendages burst out of the wall at irregular intervals.

Some were humanoid, others animal. All wanted to grab her. She skipped, clapped, ducked and wave. It was a dance; he knew. Though not any in particular. Instead, it was the sheer love of movement on display.

She didn’t need any music for this.

As she danced, the players in the crowd clapped a long and shifted in their seats. Jester could tell they got it. She was showing a love of life rarely seen. It made him happy. Hard not to.

He hoped they were scoring on style. She’d have that one in the bag.

As soon as the arms were done with, it was onto the lasers. They flickered out as she approached, though the camera shifted. That little movement allowed him to see the red dots on the walls.

Still on, but invisible.

That would make this harder. At least, it would have if they hadn’t equipped her for this.

With one hand, she reached down to her belt, as the other pointed forward once again.

“Really Trap Master?” She called out. “You still haven’t planned for my Giggle Grenades?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Jester whispered to himself.

She’d never mentioned that she’d named the things. Kylee called them smoke grenades. They weren’t complicated. Single use. Filled an area with yellow smoke. Simple.

Giggle Grenades made them sound so much worse.

Her declaration compete, she tossed the grenade in her hand. It bounced off the stone floor and rolled before stopping. With a hiss, yellow gas filled the hallway. Happy Hour started laughing triumphantly.

“See, your traps are no match for relentless positivity!”

Jester watched as the lasers came into view. No longer red, they were orange streaks among the yellow mist. Once more, Happy Hour laughed as she strode into the mist.

It was hard to make out what was happening. With her custom color and the smoke, she became almost invisible. Jester found it was easier to squint and look for the most movement in the smoke.

She was there. Her movements swift and sure as she dodged in between each of the lasers with an acrobats grace. With a perfectly executed forward roll, she was out of the smoke. In one movement, she sprang to her feet, hands outstretched.

“Ta-da!” Happy Hour called out as whirled around. “Captain Joy has done it again.”

Cheers and calling came from the crowd. A few players called out insults, and several boo’d. Still, Jester felt pleased that the vast majority appeared to be on board.

With her flourishing done, she continued to move. When she reached the pit of green, she paused. There were stepping stones that would allow her to cross. However, they were moving back and forth in a slow pattern.

Even viewing them on a screen, Jester could tell they looked slick.

One wrong step and she was gone.

It made him wonder how Spokes managed this. Then he remembered the wheeled contraptions’ ability to rearrange its shape. It would have taken careful maneuvering, but he could see it getting through with effort.

Over head the clock continued to tick upwards, getting on towards the fifteen-minute mark. He hoped they weren’t too far off time wise from the others.

Happy Hour seemed to hesitate at the edge of the pit. Her outstretched finger following along with the first platform. Then she jumped. With her arms outreached, she landed on the first platform. Wobbled.

Gasps came from the crowd. Though a few players yelled for her to fall. Others picked up that cry, and suddenly two shouts were battling. One for her to fall, and the other to keep going.

It was deafening, and Jester wished he could turn down the screen’s volume.

Thirty seconds later, she finally got her balance back. Her posture changed as she got ready to jump to the next one. Each jumped seemed to come easier. Then the trap changed.

As he watched, the platforms sped up. The ones behind her dropping into the sludge with a plop.

Happy Hour jumped more quickly. Sometimes only a single foot on the platform as she did so. He winced as he watched her slip on the second to last one.

She’d landed near the edge, and the momentum of the platform shifted her to the side. Her yellow boot came off, and shouts exploded out. Ones that got louder when she changed her momentum.

With one hand against the nearby wall, she pushed herself back upright. Though she was back to the same wobbling spot she’d been at to start with. Jester held his breath. Eyes unblinking as he watched her.

More screams for her to fall filled his tiny room. Players standing up as though it would give them a better view.

Her arms flailed, even as her head turned as though looking for an escape route. He breathed a sigh of relief as she found one. One of her outreached hands caught the wall. The motion nudging her back to even footing.

His breath released in a loud sigh.

He winced as his ears rang from the noise of the crowd. All of them celebrating or moaning in equal measure. Happy Hour made the next jump with seeming ease as she landed on the other side of the pit.

Jester clapped as she once more bowed and flourished.

With that complete, she sauntered to the end. Once there, she hit a button and teleported out. Her total time sat at seventeen minutes.

All he could do was hope that was enough.

The robot directed him to stand on the teleport platform, where they whisked him to the stage. To his surprise, he stood next to Charli33.

“So what did you think?” he asked, as Glasshopper looked like she was about to faint.

“Different.”

Jester looked around for Happy Hour but didn’t see her. That was odd.

“Contestants!” a voice called out. Loud and overly masculine. “Welcome to the arena. As you know, this is our first test at a gauntlet run. Thank you for participating. Now for scores.”

Jester watched in fascination as the screen appeared. It was large and showed that he sat in second place. He’d been right. They were checking for more than time. Which was good, Inectorz beat everyone handily.

They finished the entire thing in twelve minutes.

Beside him, Charli33 grimaced. “Damn, I knew we took too long on the wall.”

“Yeah, that one was nasty.” Jester nodded.

He’d scored a solid 6/10 in performance, and a 5/10 for audience enjoyment. That last one annoyed him. If it wasn’t for the stigma around Androids, he knew he would have gotten more.

Still, second place wasn’t bad.

“We’d like to thank Glasshopper and Jester for continuing to our next round. Don’t worry folks, this will be more of a straight fight.” The announcer boomed. “Though, with some changes.”

Jester turned and shook hands with the woman. Who gave him the smallest of smiles. Then they were gone. He didn’t need Happy Hour to tell him what was next.

Plus, it would be nice to see Whiskers again. He wondered if Madame Merriam finished the design he’d given her.

“Ready for the party?” he asked.

“I’m always prepared for a celebration, citizen.” Happy Hour boomed as they made their way out of the coliseum.