Klank nonchalantly paced in a tiny circle around the tiny room. He couldn't be sure how long he was in there, but it was enough time to cause him to duplicate his All-tool in his other hand. He was humming the vocals that Isaac and Sasayaki sang during the bizarre concert they'd been forced into. He threw in mimicked sounds of Sierra's gnarly guitar skill, unable to produce the icy screech. His two All-tools were bouncing to the beat he played along with the band. He might not admit it to the rest of the crew, but after a while, he enjoyed himself for the most part. He'd never done something quite like that, and it was definitely among the top ten events he's witnessed or even been a part of. He continued reminiscing for a while. He payed no mind to his current predicament, lost in failed attempts to recreate tunes. Then the door he couldn't open, slowly creaked. Light overwhelmed the dim candle.

	"Well it's about time," he said to no one. Before he started pacing like a loon, Klank had a decent amount of time to think about the situation his crew found themselves. He thought about the wheel that Wiggs and Bedge had to face after their defeat. The only thing he could think of was The Pirate Games. He had never watched, but heard rumors about it. The man running things was hard to impress and even harder to beat. The unbreakable rules, after all, are said to be enforced by the GM's devil fruit powers. He thought about the Judge that sentenced the two marines to their fate. "Got off easy, they did," he remarked. Ah well, wouldn't be a true adventure if we didn't go through some weird shit." He approached the door and stepped into the light, but not before thinking of his ship and saying, "But if they so much as touch my ship." He paused to look ahead. "I'll kill them all."

	The sun was almost too bright after being cooped up in the room. He shielded his eyes, looking around and seeing four other people doing the same. They were separated by thin rivers. In the water, wooden posts were randomly placed, each with a Den Den Screen that allowed the world to see each contestant. Klank could see that on the closest screen to him, was himself, hand over his eyes. He raised his hand, smiled, and flipped up his middle finger for the world to see. Cheers and boos echoed into the air. This startled Klank and the other contestants.

	"And a feisty one we have here, folks." The voice was familiar. It belonged to the third judge from the concert, GM. "Let's just see if the holds up in our next game."

	The sun finally became bearable, and when he peered further out, he could see a large huddle of people, all jumping up and down. They looked kind of hazy, like some kind of barrier was separating them from this games boundaries. Ahead of him, were baby sized islands with no specific pattern. It was the same for each contestant, each path littered differently. The area was mostly sea water, and this had Klank a little nervous, but hopefully nothing he couldn't handle.

	"There's only one rule for this game, contestants," the voice said. "You can choose one object on your person, and only one. You have thirty seconds to decide. When you have chosen your item, place it on the pedestal located at the starting post. All other possessions will be confiscated until the game is complete. And the name of this game..." the voice paused. "The Mad Dash." The crowd beyond hollered in excitement. Apparently this particular game was a hit. "Your thirsty seconds start... NOWWW."

	Klank immediately produced a cigarette into his mouth and lit. With no time to waste, he dragged the whole thing while he looked around. He noted the other contestants scrambling to choose an item. He walked up to the pedestal, instantly laying his precious all tool onto the post. The moment he did, everything disappeared. His goggles, poof. His fanny pack full of traveling necessities, blip. The wooden plank on his back, Swish. Even his beloved cigarette blinked out of existence. This set him off, but he kept his cool on the outside. "How the hell am I supposed to think straight, now?" he cursed. Luckily he had devised a plan before hand and all he had to do was stick to it.

	The moment his items disappeared, Klank abandoned his post and walked back to the shack he came from. As he looked at it, only the door and its frame could be seen. The rest of the shack seemed to be hidden behind some kind of magic, no doubt the result of GM's devil fruit. Why he left the doors was beyond Klank. 

	"One of the contestants seems to have already given up," the voice echoed. Klank smirked.

	"Nah, just exploiting a flaw in your games," Klank thought to himself. The others, finally chose their items and placed them on their respective starting posts. The man to the far right had decided to go with his sword, mostly because it was all he had. The next contestant, a girl, set down a surf board, no doubt thinking it would help her cross the long journey across the many gaps of water. The fourth contestant, a fishman, set down nothing. Klank worried about him. He was sure to be the first one to the finish line. He payed no mind, though, thinking that second place had to offer some kind of safety.

	When Klank finally reached the door, the voice echoed once again with a five second count down. He stood there waiting. He didn't want to lead anyone on to his plan before the race started. And then it did. With the official start of the game, Klank watched the others. The man with the sword leaped into the water and began swimming like his life depended on it. Still, it was slow going. The girl jumped back with her board and got a running start. She threw it down just before hitting the water and glided across. It was a much faster approach. The fishman just stood there peacefully. Klank waited a moment, but when there was no sign of movement, Klank made his. 

	"And I'll just take this," he grunted as he ripped the lone door from its hinges. Door held tightly to his back, Klank ran to his All-tool. Once he snatched it from the post, he let the door fall to the ground. He looked to the sky and once again raised his middle finger. The only rule was to choose ONE item on ONE's person. He tapped his foot on the edge of the door and in moments, six more appeared laying flat on the ground. The first man hadn't made it to the first baby island. The girl was on her third, but running out of gas. She had an effective approach, but not very efficient. With how small each island was, she required more and more strength just to get the speed she needed to get to the next. The fishman, peacefully stood at his starting post. The crowd was silent now, waiting for Klank to make a move. He wished he had a cigarette, but he was use that anger he now felt to fuel his actions. Suddenly, in a chaotic frenzy, Klank began sawing and hammering and building. On the screens dedicated to his lane, the world could only see of cloud of smoke. It concealed his work. "HaHA!" Klank yelled as the dust quickly settled. Before him was a small canoe and two ores locked in with wooden rings. The many planks that made up the tiny vessel were connected by a technique he learned from back in his apprentice days. He carved squared hooks at the edges of the planks. These hooks allowed him to interlock the planks without the use of nails. He pushed the canoe into the water and stepped in. With a devilish grin, he rowed, conserving his energy. 

	The crowd went wild for the Master Crafter, a title he held in his hometown. The first man was busy trying not to drown, the sword he stubbornly kept weighing him down. The girl was far ahead, but her motivation was dying with her strength. The fishman, peacefully waited. The crowd continued and all screen focused on the smiling Klank.

	"Row Row Row your boat," Klank sang loudly. "SAFELY through the GGAAMMEE." He quickly passed the gassed girl, bypassing all the stepping islands. He desperately wished he had a smoke for the laughable occasion. "Warily Warily Warily Warily..." He paused to choose his next words carefully as he reached the final island with the finish line. "He WATCHED as his rules were OUTBRAINED." He  ran to the finishing post as he yelled the last word. His intention was to piss off GM for disappearing his cigarette. Which he might regret now that the game was over and all his possession  blinked back into their rightful places. He immediately duped a smoke into his mouth and took a deep breath after the first drag. His mind was clear once again. "Shit"

	The crowd was still raging, though some of them were waiting for a reaction. The surf girl, winded to all hell, finally completed her coarse. The first contestant laying on his back atop an island way back, and the fishman was still standing peacefully. This confused Klank, but it was in the back of his thoughts. He waited for the judging.

	"Impressive!" the distinctive voice appeared. "I admit I did not see that coming, and by the reactions of everyone watching, neither did the viewers. For that alone," The judge and creator of The Pirate Games suddenly appeared suspended mid air. "I CHOOSE to allow you into the next round of games. However, you'll get a special game. One I've been waiting to introduce to the fans. You'll find there are no rules to exploit." He turned to the screens as they all changed to display him. "BUT WE"LL JUST HAVE TO WAIT AND SEE," he yelled to amp the crowd even more.

	"As for the rest of you," he pointed to the three other contestants. "There's only one winner for The Mad Dash.	
	
	A wheel appeared before each of the other contestants, already spinning. The judge announced the results before the world.

	"First Contestant Hagen, Chosen item, a sword. I am most displeased with your pathetic display. For that, you are sentenced to," he paused to wait for the wheel and read the result. "Live out your days in the Hall of Punishment." The crowd gasped. "Second Contestant Heidi, chosen item, a surf board. Admiral performance, lacking in conviction." He tapped his hammer in the air. The wheel stopped and GM read. "Death by The Depths. An unfortunate demise." He said it unphased. "Fourth contestant Turok, no chosen item." His eyes pierced. A fishman exiled from the sea." A tap of the hammer and slowing of the wheel. "You are sentenced to... Combat of Second Chances. Maybe we'll see something out of you yet." The creator looked to Klank with an emotionless smile. "You advance, Third Contestant Klank, chosen item, a multi-tool." Klank grunted at the name. "But the Wheel of judgement," he paused. "Will find you in the next game." And with that, Klank was teleported out of sight.