marvel_girl:

In spite of all her efforts, Rachel had come no closer to freeing herself than when she'd started.  Three rounds of Mojo's sadistic game had passed in all, and she'd picked Starbridge, David, and Torn Ear once each, trying to give them what respite she could.  And each time, they had survived the challenge.  As had Sweepzweak. 

It was enough to drive a girl mad.

And perhaps the worst thing of all?  She'd actually already made up her mind before they'd gotten kidnapped.  She might have hemmed and hawed a bit, but when it came down to it, she realized who she wanted as her boyfriend.

As the guys returned to the contest area, she resumed marshaling what little psychic power she could.

ng_mojoverse:

A studio announcer's voice cut through the crowd.  "And now, it's time to play the Mojoverse's new favorite game show....  DATE OR DEATH!  Where we try to match up one fabulous lady with one of our lucky contestants!  The winner gains her heart, the losers gain a one-way ticket to the afterlife!  And now, let's give a very special Mojoverse welcome to our host... The Host!"
( *Applause* )

ng_mojoverse:

"Crap, crap, crap, really bad crap, crap, crap, crap, crap, porn, crap, crap, crappy porn, crap, crap, crap.."

Each of the words was punctuated by a click of a remote and the changing of a channel.  Mojo, supreme ruler of the Mojoverse and master programmer supreme, sultan of the air waves, tip top tv exec, and the person responsible for the 2004 Super Bowl halftime show, was not happy.

"Why are my ratings DOWN?!" he bellowed.  He looked left.  He looked right.  And he realized that there was no one around to listen to his rantings.  "DOMO!   DOMO!  DOMO!"

"You bellowed, oh bulbous one?" Major Domo, his majordomo asked, appearing behind him with enough quietness that the great Mojo was forced to jerk in surprise.

"What have I told you about sneaking up on me?!" he demanded.

"I was making plenty of noise, oh supreme one.  Doubtless you were simply engaged in creating superior programming and did not hear me."

"Yes, well... yeah, I was.  But why are my ratings DOWN?!"  He gestured toward the tvs.    "I mean, I've got people out there readings books!  Dead trees!  And this FaceSpace and myBook and tweeter-de-dee?!  What's wrong with these people?!  Why aren't they watching?!  I need a new show.  I need inspiration.  Something that will really put the butts back in the seats.  And then something that will keep them there.  Maybe some kind of glue...  Domo, look into super-glue suppliers.  Tell them we'll take everything they have.  Literally. Or else I'll send Spiral after them!"

Domo sighed.  He was used to dealing Mojo's moods.  And he knew just the thing to bring him out of it.  "If I may offer a suggestion, oh Video Master?"

Mojo seemed unresponsive, so Domo took the initiative and waved a remote in front of his face, large yellow eyes following its every move.  He turned the TV on.

"As you can see, the X-Man called Rachel Summers is engaged in quite the romantic conundrum.  Three different suitors, three different demographics.  The Prince, the Bat Boy, and the Furry.  You could get quite the audience draw with them."

"No, no, no!" Mojo ranted.  "That's a terrible idea!  We need something good!  ...Wait, I've got it!  We'll kidnap the Summers girl and her three boy toys, throw in one of our own, put it on TV.  Call it... Who Wants to Marry a Mutant!  We'll make millions!  Make it happen!  GET ME THAT PHOENIX!"