Setsuna and Privet Duel
Privet held his saber up before his face in salute. "Are you ready?"
Setsuna balanced on one toe and crossed her daggers in front of her face. "I'm not going to lose to you."
Privet grinned. "Amateurs should not talk trash."
"Ohh hoo," Setsuna gasped in rage, her eyes wild. "You'll pay for that one, Wysterian!"
Loosing her composure, Setsuna roared and threw both her blades. Privet deflected the first one and spun around, but the second buried itself deep into his thigh.
Squealing embarrassingly loud, Privet dropped his saber and fell to the floor of the vault, clutching his injury.
“Oh no!” Setsuna yelped, placing her hands over her mouth. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!”
“CUT!” yelled the director. “What the crap just happened?”
A pair of production assistants ran over to Privet and inspected his wound. “You stupid moss-eater, you're supposed to throw it to the side of me!” Privet howled in pain.
Setsuna threw the rest of her blades to the ground. “I'm an actress, I don't know how to use these stupid things!”
More people piled in around Privet, forming a crowd of concerned staff.
“He's okay, right?” Setsuna fidgeted, trying to come closer and look over the people in the way. “I hope he's okay.”
“How can I be okay? I have a frickin' knife in my leg!” he screamed.
“Is that blood?” Setsuna fretted. “Oh, it is, that's blood.” She clutched her stomach and bent over. “That's really real blood...I think I'm going to throw up.”
Setsuna fell to her knees and covered her mouth with her hands, her skin turning green.
“Where the crap is the set medic?” the director called out. “And can someone please explain to me why she wasn't using a prop knife? Get the props department in here, right now!”
Setsuna bent over and threw up on the floor.
“Whoa,” Captain Evere said, backing up. “Someone had the split-pea soup for lunch.”
“Even her vomit is green,” Alder observed.
“Gosh Dangit!” the director screamed, nearly falling out of his chair.
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