Aiden wasn’t a "stuntman" in the professional sense. He was twenty-two, worked a dead-end job at a pier, and possessed a terrifying lack of a self-preservation instinct. He leaned into the lens, his thick Boston accent cutting through the silence of the room.
The screen cut to black. Within an hour of the upload, the video had a hundred thousand hits. Aiden was a star, at least until the bruises healed and he had to find something even more painful to do for the next one. ItsGonnaHurt.com - Aiden From Boston.mp4
Aiden reached out and clicked the remote. The machine hummed to life, a high-pitched whine that vibrated in his teeth. He braced his feet, hands clamped onto his knees. Thwack. Aiden wasn’t a "stuntman" in the professional sense
"Yo, it’s Aiden from Boston. You guys voted for the 'Slapshot Roulette.' So, here we go." The screen cut to black
He pulled his face into view. His jaw was swelling fast, and he couldn't quite open his left eye, but he held up a shaky thumbs-up.