Zed in Paradise 4

“Welcome, intrepid explorers” said the man who had snapped his fingers with open arms “You have arrived in Gameworld, the land of games!”
“Video games?” a boy asked with genuine curiosity.
“No!” said the man cheerfully, overseeing the boy's especially bloody demise. By this point, the majority of remaining Earth humans had seen the man who had welcomed them. This instilled in most a deep disgust. And in others a strange but fantastic pleasure. The man was wearing a black cape. He wore nothing else apart from fists resting on his hips “which of you is the leader?”
“That depends” said a person who had just decreased his life expectancy to around ten seconds “Who wants to know?” after eight more seconds of the greeter's deep contemplation had passed the man was shot in his armpits.
“I am Greeter Howard, I will oversee both your induction to the planet and your deaths, should you break any of the rules”
“What are the rules?” asked someone who had a large amount of guts, but not for much longer.
“I will address the rules” he said once he had finished with the person's innards “after I have met with your leader”
“Is our president still alive?” asked a person to the rest of humanity.
“No” said Jeremy Kyle “he acted more like a Gruffalo than an elephant”
“What's a-” someone started.
“Don't ask”
“Then it appears that I am your leader” Zed stepped out of the crowd and stood in front of the caped one, mimicking his pose and staring a powerful stare.
“Finally” said he, extending a hand for a shake with Zed, whom obliged to his silent request “So, do you live in a house?”
“I did before it was destroyed”
“I see” he said, continuing the shake “Did you have a toilet?”
“Except on Wednesdays, yes”
“Did you use toilet paper?”
“Only when necessary”
“I don't”
“Oh?” said Zed, his attention redirected from the elongation of the handshake to the strange concept that had been put before him “Then what do you use?”
“My hands” he said with a grin. Zed stopped shaking his hand, the other laughed a terrible, bad-tasting laugh “Come now, let me show you around”
“Interesting, Mr. Greeter, but how can you expect to show us around when you are unable to point?” Howard's gaze dropped to his own hands, which were no longer there. His eyes widened with shock and he fell to his knees, still staring.
“They're just in your sleeves, you stupid cock-nugget!” shouted a voice.
“Oh” said Howard, revealing his hands once more “Strange, really, because I was under the impression that I wasn't wearing anything with sleeves” an explanation to this was about to be uttered but this was interrupted by the remembrance that he was supposed to be explaining something else entirely “ah yes, the rules” these were so important that he had to begin speaking in another paragraph.
“Here in Gameworld, we wish to be fully prepared to meet with Satan and/or Death, so we have based our society's principles around game-playing”
“So you can win back your soul?” asked someone, whom was shot to the death after confirmation of this. You would have thought that they would learn not to speak by this point, but they didn't and subsequently did. Yes.
“But what's with all the killing you do?” asked Zed.
“Oh, to put a point across here you have to first challenge someone to a game first and then win. Otherwise you are killed”
“That sounds very impractical. Also, why haven't you killed me yet?”
“You know the answer to that, obviously it's because-” it was Howard's turn to be interrupted by a bullet blowing apart his skull. Taking his place was the emperor of Gameworld.
“I am the Emperor of Gameworld” he boomed. See, I was right.
“Just one more explanation, please” a woman had dropped to her knees.
“That rule only applies if you are in the presence of someone of a higher rank than yourself” explained the emperor, his majestic, high collared purple robes fluttering in the gentle breeze “Therefore, I hereby grant all humans honourary nobleman status, speak as you will”
“You smell!” said someone, experimentally, only to be eradicated from existence. Now they knew the boundaries. A lot of boring exposition later, all the remaining humans came to terms with the concept of Gameworld: to do anything, you must first win a game.
And that was that. Their new society was one based around game-winning, and for most of humanity and their new Gameworld counterparts, life was good. Except for the first time they all went out for a meal. As the rule went, to accomplish anything, a game must be won. Sitting in their seats which was somehow possible for several million people at once.
“Hello, welcome to Gamefood” said many waitresses at once “May we accept your game challenge in order for you to be in with the chance of ordering your food?”
“Yes” they all said after a deliberating process of discussion with one another.
“Well then, what'll it be?” their grins glued to their faces as if stuck down with hair gel, intimidating their opponents with the face of a leaner-than-average shark.
“Scrabble!” said some.
“Monopoly” said others.
“Fencing” offered someone.
“First one to punch you in the face wins” said a very clever person, winning their table food and their waitress a broken nose in the most efficient manner possible. For the rest there followed a tedious and drawn-out task of attempting to win games, made worse by the echo of hunger throughout the establishment