By the time I arrived for the evictions, the proceedings had already commenced. A crowd had gathered for the public executions, and I had decided not to disappoint. The five avatars with the lowest number of votes were announced, and we made our way to the place from where three would be cast down.

Instructions for the final rites were given - if our names were called, we were to descend the tube to a place where the survivors could pick carrion from the corpses. A dramatic pause, and then Big Brother, his virtual breath reeking with a stench of pity, announced that "THE FIRST PERSON IN HISTORY EVER TO BE EVICTED FROM THE VIRTUAL BIG BROTHER IS...."

Beat.

"GIDEON TELEVISION".

As the mob went crazy, I bellowed "NOOOOOO", less out of anguish than to allow TheDiva to swoon on cue, as per our arrangement. And here is where Big Brother came to realize that while reality may come to Second Life, some Television will always remain unscripted.

Pulling my beloved Desert Eagle from it's holster (you know, they really SHOULD have strip searched me), I gave one final wink to the crowd, put the barrel to my temple, and pulled the trigger. A fountain of blood exploded across the walls of my glass prison, a bloody finale that'll take days to wipe clean. I fell to the ground, and only those in the box with me heard my final whispered message. Maybe they'll share it with the housemates, maybe they won't. And then, fade to black.

So long Big Brother. I hated to fuck you goodbye, but then, isn't that what Big Brothers usually end up doing with their siblings?