Gunpwder and apprehesion hung fetid in the air. Soft murmurs throbbed. Hood Auditorium was crowded with the Seven Hundred. Starting high in the bleachers, feet thumped. Up and down, boom and bam, the rhythm built as Teal marched to beneath the basketball hoop. Her weapons swung with pride.

Clad in grey camos and her signature eyepatch, Teal raised both hands with her machetes. The crowd fell eearily silent. With machetes still raised she surveyed the assembly, Teal nodded to the sea of allies and enemies alike. They all bowed their heads as Teal lowered her blades.

“Praise to the fallen. Praise to the Game. Seven Hundred have we not come a long way from Nerf guns and water pistols!” Teal shouted.

Laughter rose from the crowd. Teal could read there was still a frisson of unease in the auditorium.

“But from our schoolyard games with paintballs we have become the students of violence. Have we not, brothers and sisters? Have we not forged a new path built on the teachings of our elders but ours alone. Sundown five days hence marks the birth cry of the 2054 Assassin Game. Mark the ground rules set forth from the Principals for this year’s sport. No bio-weapons of any kind. Needless to say no aircraft or weapons of mass destruction please. No poisons but all hand weapons and light artillery are allowed. Hospital zones are hallowed ground in Wyoming, Delaware, Georgia, and Arkansas only. After much debate the ban on Texico and the Florida Empire holds—“

The crowd erupted into boos and hisses. Shotgun blasts rang out from the Berkely representatives. Teal allowed the crowd to vent. After a week of debates and assessments, Teal knew the value of blowing off steam. Bitter, she considered if there was so other way to handle overpopulation. A series of fist fights started among the Ivy Leagues. Nodding to herself Teal knew some lessons must be taught by blood. She gestured to MoJo, one of her Vices. MoJo hurled a throwing star into the crowd at random. A scream bought peace and order. Flanking Teal, the other Vices raised their razor tipped stars in warning. Field medics climbed the bleachers giving aid.

“The ban on Texico and the Florida Empire holds until 2055. We have done well this year. Green fields and blue skies again. Fish have been sighted in the Mississippi. Celebrate this week before the games commence. We are so proud of you. Praise to the fallen. Praise to the Game,” Teal said, raising her machetes again.

Someone cheered. Then their feet began to thump in unison. Boom and bam, the bass drum sounded. The marching band broke into a spirited version of Flight of the Bumblebee. The assembly followed the musicmakers out to the football field to promenade. Teal thought of the bonfires that would blaze into tonight. With tears in her eyes, she smiled.