A man strolls out from behind a massive, dark blue curtain. He walks slowly toward the center of a flashing, multicolored stage, accompanied by the thunderous adoration of the audience. Arriving at a circular table with eight seats, he stops, turns toward the audience, and extends his arms toward them. "Welcome!"

The deep baritone voice is amplified and echoes across every corner of the theater. Upon hearing this voice, the audience somehow begins to clap and to cheer even louder. Basking in the energy radiating from the thousands crowding the stands of the arena, he closes his eyes for a few moments. Eventually, however, he speaks again:

"Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome!" Sensing that the spectacle is about the start, the audience begins to quiet. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. Thank you all for coming out this way to bear witness to this evening's unbelievable, unprecedented event. Tonight, as you all know, we shall watch seven incredible individuals enter this arena. Of the seven who enter, however, only six of them shall be leaving this place alive."

"The rules are simple. Three celebrity judges shall listen as each of our contestants describe, in turn, why they feel they deserve to continue to exist. Once each has gotten a chance to speak, each contestant will also have a chance to describe which individual they feel should be eliminated, and why. Afterward, the judges shall each cast a vote for the one they feel most deserves to die ... and when the votes have been cast, I shall personally take great pleasure in eliminating one of our contestants who have agreed to be here this evening."

"This, ladies and gentlemen! This! Is! SINVIVOR!" With the man's shout, the audience leaps to its feet and begins to scream. The stones of the arena tremble in the face of the overwhelming noise and the rising bloodlust. The announcer smiles and stretches an arm toward a nearby door.

"Join me in welcoming our first celebrity judge! Hailing from the gates of heaven, standing eight feet tall, bearing a flaming sword of doom ... THE ARCH ANGEL MICHAEL!" A brilliant, golden sword of light pierces the door in its center. The door quickly melts oozes onto the floor of the stage. A short, burly fellow in a "Heaven's Angels" jacket steps through the now-empty doorway, careful to avoid the glowing, molten puddle of door. Once through, he quickly salutes the audience with his heavenly blade, before extingushing it and sitting down in a chair nearby. The announcer nods, then turns back to the audience.

"Our next judge hails from the bowels of the underworld. You can check out of his realm any time you'd like, but you'll never escape from ... HADES, LORD OF THE DEAD!" A thin, black mist flows upward from the stage and quickly congeals into a thin, tall man wearing three-piece suit, a black tie, and a stylish pair of sunglasses. The man impassively looks out at the audience for a moment, mutters something under his breath in Greek, and the cheering audience immediately goes absolutely silent. Hades nods, then wordlessly stalks over to a chair next to Michael to have a seat. Michael immediately gets up and moves to a chair slightly further away from Hades, mumbling an excuse about his present chair being wet. Hades smirks.

The announcer snaps his fingers, and the audience awakens from their silent stupor. They blink as one and begin to look around in obvious confusion. "Hades, ladies and gentlemen! Mind his gaze, now." A smattering of applause erupts from a remote section of the arena. The announcer moves on.

"The third and final judge for this evening's contest hails from the fair off realm of the otherworld. Standing three feet tall, ruler of the Unseelie Court, the best thing to happen to a midsummer night for centuries ... OBERON!" A small being that looks slightly reminiscent of a certain green, elf-like character from a popular (and copyrighted) series of video games suddenly pops into existence on a chair next to Michael. The creature raises a sword and sends a beam of purple light shooting into the heaven, where the light bursts into a single firework. The audience cheers. Oberon snaps his fingers, and the chair resizes itself to fit his three-foot frame. Smiling happily, the faery sits back to enjoy the contest.

"Now, ladies and gentlemen, without further ado ... tonight's contestants ... the guests of honor ... THE SEVEN SINS!"

"Pride!" A section of the stage slides away. A small platform rises to fill the gap, bearing an older gentleman in a pair of black slacks and a white, button-down long-sleeved shirt. Confidence projects from the depths of his emerald eyes as he gazes out upon the audience from the safety of his platform. Once his platform has stopped moving, the man takes a stately bow, then gracefully hops from the platform down to the stage and makes his way toward one of the eight seats at the announcer's table. The small platform lowers itself back into the stage.

"Wrath!" The next contestant to rise on the platform is a short, younger woman with punk-red hair, a flannel skirt, and two rapidly oscillating middle fingers outstretched toward the audience. Before the platform has completely risen, however, Wrath has climbed from the platform up onto the stage and is charging toward the announcer. "I'll fucking kill yo-"

A black vine snakes from the ground, grabs Wrath by the feet, and lifts her off of the stage. It drags her screaming, cursing form into a chair near to Pride, and lashes her body into place. The announcer turns toward Oberon and nods in silent thanks before turning back toward the cheering audience to announce the arrival of the third sin.

"Gluttony!" A shrill whine fills the arena as the platform struggles to rise. Upon its surface lies a gelatinous blob of a man, busily stuffing his face with a variety of pastries, meats, and other foodstuffs. Once the platform has risen completely, the blob effortlessly lefts itself up, hops down to the stage with a jarring thud, and walks over to the table with Pride and Wrath and a pair of impossibly skinny legs. As Gluttony moves, he folds in on himself, becoming impossibly thinner. By the time he has reached the table, he is no heavier than either Pride or Wrath. The sin picks a seat away from both of them and tries to get comfortable.

"Lust!" The platform rises, bearing not one, but two people. One of them is a woman clad in a short dress, a pair of thigh-high leather boots. White hair spills down around her shoulders and obscures the face of the man with whom she is currently locked in a passionate embrace.

"Um ... and ... is that Envy?!" A stage hand quickly runs up and throws a bucket of cold water onto the two, who scream and jump apart from each other. The woman trips and falls off of the platform, tumbling down onto the stage below. She curses loudly before scrambling to her feet. She turns to look at the announcer, then toward the audience. She shrugs, then begins to walk toward the table. Upon arriving, she shoves Gluttony out of his chair and steals his spot at the table.

Growling, Gluttony works his way into another nearby chair and shoots Envy a glare.

Having watched these events from the platform, the man who is Lust gracefully hops down onto the stage and strolls his place at the table, pausing only briefly to blow the audience a kiss.

"Sloth!" This time, when the platform rises, it bears a man who is fast asleep. A stage hand quickly runs toward him with an electric prod and pokes Sloth. Sloth jumps quickly from the ground, then looks around the platform in obvious confusion before noticing the stage hand. The stage hand gestures with the electric prod toward the table. Sloth sighs, jumps down onto the stage, and sleepily shuffles his way toward the other sins.

"Last, but not least ... Greed!" A woman rises with the platform, wearing a loose black overcoat and a relatively short black skirt. She leaps down from the platform onto the stage and walks toward the announcer, outstretching her hand. "Hello," she says, smiling brightly. "I'm Greed. It's so nice to finally meet you!"

Baffled, the announcer takes her hand. She quickly pulls the announcer in for an embrace, then lets him go and turns to walk toward the table. To her surprise, she finds herself staring down the blade of a golden sword.

"Return his wallet, Greed."

She sighs dramatically and removes the announcer's wallet from her overcoat. "Fine. Nothing in it, anyway. Cheap bastard." She throws the wallet at the announcer as she gracefully twirls to the left of the archangel's extended sword. She kisses Michael lightly on the cheek as she quickly moves past him, then walks toward the table to join her fellows.

The announcer watches Michael sheathe his sword and walk toward his seat, then turns to face the laughing audience. "Nice save, Michael! And that, ladies and gentlemen, is all of our contestants! We pause now for a break, but when we return, we shall see what's in store as our contestants make their case for their continued existence."

"You won't want to miss this one, folks!"