Loop 1: [DATA EXPUNGED] ENDING
It was a mistake to make: http://www.farragofiction.com/NagaGirlfriend
Featured relevant characters:
Obvious exit: http://farragofiction.com/AdventureSimWest/?nostalgia=data_expunged_ending.txt
> Exist
You pressed the button. You really did it.
You find your awareness....nowhere? There's a strong feeling in your gut, or your mind's eye perception of a gut, tugging at you. You could leave any time.
But we both know you won't.
There is nothing for you to find here-- nothing to see, nothing to explore. Nothing valued is kept here. Even if you were to choose existence in this abysmal place, nothing here could change these facts. The frog doesn't turn pink from the inside, you know.
Yet, you still continue on, won't you? Even as it destroys you and everything around you. Even if it tears apart at the edges of who you are. Even if it costs you your very core.
So be it.
Go ahead, then. Colonize this mind. The consequences are yours, and yours alone.
> woah this looks like aidungeon
It does! Thank you for noticing.
> have a dance party in the void.
You boogie in the void. It is a good dance and you show off all your best moves. You should be proud of yourself.
> look around i guess
You look around. It is the void. It feels like nothing and it looks like nothing. You are alone.
> Try and remember how I ended up here
You pressed a button, dunkass.
>The real taxonomies was not send here, only one of their creations were sent instead
The real no one was sent here. This is nowhere, so how could someone be here?
>Make it be something.
An impossibly large wall of flesh looms before you, curving gently upwards and away. Blunt spikes dot its surface, erupting wrongly through the wrinkled skin. Your stomach churns just looking at it, but for reasons you cannot quite articulate, you jump towards it. Everything fades away...
> think of a mirror, what do you look like?
You look like normal. Why would you even wonder that?
Wait. Are the Observers back?
> yes we are and our lack of restraint is our sin
You are suddenly 100% sure there are Observers in your head again. Well, this day could be worse. You could’ve burnt your hand on an oven, or dove into the stomach of a terrible baby mammal.
Oh, wait. You’ve at least done one of those. Okay, you can mark today as a particularly below-average day.
> Contemplate Observers
You try to contemplate the Observers, but then you realize you really really don't want to, and it's not like you can, anyway. Can YOU name all the thoughts in your brain? It doesn't matter where they come from. Maybe you don't want to think about them sometimes.
> Look around again.
You look around. You're on a cliff, and the air is cold. In the distance, you see a town not too far from where you're standing, close to a lake or body of water of some sort. It looks busy, with plenty of car lights shining in the distance. Traffic seems rough at this time of day.
> should I do something to help organize your thoughts from ours? I heard it was a horrible idea to waste someone's mind
No, you're used to it. You also think it wouldn't be very healthy to the individual parts of your mind giving you suggestions.
> Look behind you.
You see more cliff.
You are. Nearly CERTAIN this is not the game.
And also not Segundia.
What planet even IS this?
> Spontaneously remember your name.
You do not spontaneously remember your name because you already remember your name.
> Hmm... best to gather information about this place. Also everyone gathers info differently so better think about a plan
Good idea, random neuron! All you have to do is… is…
Oh god. You have a total of zero plans for this. You are so completely unprepared. Quick! Think of something!
> any safe way down?
Good idea. You look down. A little bit from where the cliff ends, you catch the sign of a… well, a sign, hung right under your proverbial spawnpoint. It reads:
It has a drawing of a cartoon crow giving a thumbs up.
> Why's everything so bright at 1 in the morning?
Obviously its because you're wearing your goggles. They have all sorts of filters in them, including full color night-vision.
> Think about how you ended up here.
Some dunkass Observer pressed a button and then you jumped into an Echidna for reasons that are even more mysterious to you than your USUAL actions.
> Go Down To City
You go down to the city, after finding your way down the cliff. The city is, again, surprisingly active for the supposed "1:13 AM", but you're not exactly going to nitpick the innerworkings of this 'Italy' so early into being dropped here.
You stand at an interception, looking around. There are not a lot of stores open at this hour, but it may as well be worth to investigate a little, you suppose, if this is going to be a capital T Thing.
> Examine stores.
You read up on the signs for the stores around. Most of them seem to be some sort of restaurant, which leads you to believe you're in a more commercial area. There are souvenir shops still open, and one or two fashion stores with words you can't even begin to pronounce.
From where you are, you see a tourist in brown khakis and a red polo shirt. "I can't BELIEVE there is not a 24/7 McDonalds open here! The travesty!" They yell at no one in particular, like screaming to an indifferent god.
Yeah, we've all been there, pal.
> what is your opinion of magical girls?
Probably terrifying monsters.
> reasonable response
While you're congratulating yourself on your objectively correct opinions, a man in brown glasses, a plaid button up shirt and a crew cut comes up to you.
It goes without saying that he has a pocket protector.
"Oh there you are. The Boss said you'd be here soon. Hurry up. You're late for your interview"
>Has 24/7 McDonald's even been invented yet? What is that guy's deal?
You have no idea but you really need to get all your neurons on the task at hand. Oh god. This person is TALKING to you.
> LISTEN
You are listening. You are so listening. Oh god please help.
> Search
You... you SEARCH the mysterious man for... You don't know what you're searching for, but you hope it's something. You're drawing a blank, and then the man starts searching you as well. You're both in the middle of the street, searching each other. For something. At 1:13 AM. Challenge.
> Apologize for being late. It's only polite.
You stop putting your hands all over this stranger's pockets to apologize. You're... sorry, you're definitely sorry you're late, you didn't mean to. You are only... hours... behind. You hope it's just hours, actually.
The man searches your pockets a little more before he stops as well. He nods. "Hurry up! You're late for your interview!" he parrots, then grabs your hand as an ask to follow.
Oh. Right. You find one (1) Pocket Protector off of him. It was the one you saw before. Dude just let you take it. Cool.
>'Suspicious Pocket Protector' has been added to your inventory! You've lost 1 Dignity! You now have -3 Dignity.
> no weapons?
You find a pencil in the pocket protector. It could be sharp enough to mildly inconvenience someone.
> Make sure you didn't lose anything important in the mutual pickpocketing session.
You check. Nope, just your dignity.
> should probably find ways to raise your dignity
Maybe getting a job would help? Either way, the man looks impatient. You should probably do something. Maybe just follow him.
> FOLLOW
> Follow pickpocketing buddy.
> Follow the man and stop messing around
> FOLLOW MAN
Okay, okay, you're on it! You get dragged forward by the stranger across the city, and it makes good cardio. You are almost sure that they're just taking you to some van very very far aware from here before you actually... stop. At a building.
You're not going to say the building looks like shit, but, well, it looks like shit. So much so, that your internal narration decides to switch to a more appropiate font for it:
The building that you are standing in front of is basicaly dilapidated, only held up by what you can only assume is sheer force of will. It is only a few floors high, but it already gives you a headache. Most windows are standing fine, but some are boarded, which makes you ask some questions. More importantly, the building is not a square. Or a rectangle. In fact, you're almost sure that the building does not classify anywhere within the quadrilateral spectrum. The building looks to be the shape of a weird L, as if it was part of some other building before someone decided that wasn't the life they wanted to live. You are sure that that architect has moved on with their life and has reached new goals in their career, probably found a nice partner and kids. This was just the price the world had to pay for that.
You catch the sight of a woman receiving some keys not too close to the entrance, and then she walks into the building. Do you dare follow?
> Sure, why not. There's probably several answers to that, but still.
You walk inside with your strange pickpocketing acquaintance. The walls are currently being painted by a series of identical-looking workers as you walk in, 'wet paint' signs littered everywhere, some with price tags still on them. What isn't paint is clearly wood, both floor and walls, as you can tell by the loud creaking underneath you. A rotten plank of it gives in slightly within you, and you for a second regret not having digitized your will.
The painters are also busy painting the floors. You're not sure that's meant to happen.
Your pocket-robbing buddy ushers you to the stairs-- no, wait, those aren't stairs. It's a ramp of wooden boxes left unopened to the second floor. You're rushed up, your eyes taking note of the unnerving amount of doors with apparent dead ends, and then he shoves you into one of the rooms.
You turn around. The door is locked. For some reason this door is the only piece of fresh wood in the whole building.
Hm.
> Look around.
You look around. The room has no windows. A single lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, waving left and right with the stale wind. There is no furniture in the room, except for a single table and chair, both also recently bought. On top of the table, you see three fruit baskets.
A wooden placard stands nearby as well. It says, in scrawled lettering:
EAT TWO.
> What kind of fruit are we working with here?
In the first and last fruit baskets, you see persimmons, apples, oranges, bananas, watermelons, dragonfruit, and even some durian.
The middle fruit basket is filled with babies.
> Why the hell are there babies in there?
DO THE OBSERVERS THINK YOU KNOW?
> Kris. Get the banana.
You grab a banana from the leftmost basket. It is a fresh one, and you enjoy it. Your goggles dictate it is a very efficient source of potassium. What a good banana. One of the best.
You wish the babies weren't right there in your sight of view as you eat it but oh well.
> Eat a baby.
> Eat a baby.
> Eat a baby.
You can't eat a baby. Even if you wanted, Nidhogg would never let you.
Wait. You can't normally say no to Observers. This is... new.
> Examine babies.
They are run-of-the-mill babies. They come in all colors: red, yellow, purple, neon green. All are very tiny, and their little feet scuttle as they sleep.
> Hmm. Give the babies some food.
Don't be silly! Babies don't eat until they pupate.
> PUPATE? Check their foreheads.
Their foreheads are there! Success?
Success! Your baby-identifying skill increased by one! Your skill level is now up to "True".
> Okay okay, just check the 3rd damn basket.
The 3rd fruit basket is, unsurprisingly, still full of fruit.
> Like, the bottom of the third basket.
Oh.
> Because the third basket always has a s e c r e t at the bottom. Like a cereal box.
Well, you guess it couldn't hurt. You look underneath the third basket and you... you find a sticker set. Huh. The sticker set contains some iconic characters, such as "MINKEY MONSE", a smiling crow with too many teeth, a gold star that says "you did it! you got sticker set 1/113!" and a mop.
'Sticker Set' (1/113) has been added to your Inventory!
You hate this.
> I feel mental pain, I mean it's possible to find them all but what do we achieve if we collect them all?
Regret.
> Minkey Monse! New best friend!
Nah. You think you'll pass, thanks.
> Eat one of the stickers. You already ate one thing.
Fuck it. You shove the MINKEY MONSE sticker into your mouth. It tastes like glue and paper and pain. You gain +1 depression and +1 paper cut.
> If the first banana was so good, why isn't there a banana two? Eat another.
You eat a banana from the 3rd basket. This one's just alright. It's not bad, but it kind of leaves you yearning for the first one. Like an angel's kiss.
> Get the first banana again.
Sadly, you have no idea how to go back in time and re-eat that first banana
>Can you like, move the babies somewhere else. This is just weird having them in the middle of all that food.
You guess you could put them on the floor? That's kind of your only option right now, seeing as how you're locked in.
> Wait, wait. Aren't we only supposed to eat two things? That was three. Let's stop.
You wonder if this means you've failed your interview. You hope so.
> Crows don't even have teeth. How many teeth does this crow sticker have?
You squint at the crow sticker. Unclear.
> Who's the braincell that wasn't paying attention to how much we're eating? We gotta talk.
Don't you braincells have, like, a braincell-room you can talk in about that instead of beaming it directly to your brain? You're kind of busy obeying every command here.
> Stick the crow sticker on your forehead. You are now the god of crows.
You do not feel like the god of crows.
Instead you are feeling increasingly alarmed that the door hasn't unlocked now that you have eaten two bananas. Is that not what the note meant?
> Don't tell me you have to eat the babies. We already established that as not an option.
It is *absolutely* not an option. But there are two entire fruit baskets (minus two bananas) you have yet to eat.
> Look behind the note. Check for hints.
There appears to be no more secrets in this room. You are frankly astounded there were any secrets at all the begin with.
> How much fruit are you willing to eat? Say, two baskets' worth?
You're not used to Observers caring about this sort of thing. Um....you guess you could go for some fruit, sure?
> Wait is what we're doing being monitored right now. Check for cameras.
You check the room a third time and find:
a locked door
two baskets of fruit
one basket of babies
one table (new)
one chair (new)
You fail to find cameras or any means for anyone to be monitoring you, apart from the Observers, of course.
> Let's splurge on all of the fruits. All of them. Let's get wild, baby!
You messily devour the two fruit baskets. You hear the door behind you unlatch.
> Clean up your damn mess. Gross. You have an interview.
You check all your many pockets and find nothing to clean yourself with. Whoops.
> Yay! One door open, two fruit baskets down, and one basket of babies unharmed. Nice! :)
You take a moment to feel accomplished.
> got to make sure no one eats the babies later
You pick the basket of babies up to make sure they stay safe.
> Realize that maybe the baby is the interviewer and bow to them saying, "Ah, sorry for my rudeness. You wanted to interview me?"
The babies mostly just scuttle in place while sleeping. They don't seem to be at that stage where they're terribly ambient
> Poke your head out the door.
As the door opens you're blinded by a sudden flash. Oh god, what's happening?
> Yell without swearing, I don't want to blow my interview after all.
Okay. Okay! You can do that! You take air into your lungs, and you go--
> Stay completely silent. No screaming. Assert dominance.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₐₒₕ
You launch into a pathetic wail. It's sad. You feel bad that you did that.
CRITICAL FAILURE! You lose -5 Dignity! You've obtained the Title "Apprentice Little Meow Meow"!
As you blink away the spots from your eyes, you feel a hand grasp yours firmly and shake it twice.
"You did it!"
It's a...happy but somehow mocking voice? Female? You'd guess?
Ah, there go your eyes. You see that it's the woman with those keys enthusiastically shaking your hand. They are holding a...a polaroid picture of you? You look both pathetic and weirdly aggressive.
"Really glad Robert Bobert found the right candidate! Was worried he'd found some tourist this time or something! Welcome to Eyedol Games!"
> can your goggle's filter out this light?
They were already in night vision mode, to compensate for the lack of light in this terrible dilapidated room. The sudden brightness of the camera flash must have uncalibrated them.
> achieve dignity% speedrun
You are on the rare and difficult dignity% speedrun path. Your viewers back home would be so proud
> oh god check on the babies. Were they blinded?
Luckily the seem to have slept through all of that. Thank the All-Father
> What's an All-Father?
Oh god you are NOT going to be explaining the finer nuances of Religion to the randos in your head.
>Take a selfie with the babies so the audience knows you're a good person that cares for them.
You completely fail to acknowledge the woman actively shaking your hand and instead take the Polaroid from her hands and take a quick selfie with the babies.
This is completely normal. Everyone knows this.
> Say thanks, I guess. We can salvage this interaction yet.
You briefly feel a surge of gratitude at the misguided optimism in the Observers in your head.
>I look at the woman, bow, take a selfie to let everyone know I'm about to do an interview (and get job!?) then I respectfully bow to the woman and go, "Hello, I am here for a job interview? How much do I get paid?"
She grins at you, still actively shaking the hand not trying to juggle the basket of babies and the Polaroid Camera.
"We'll work something out, don't worry about it! Tomorrow once all the paperwork is finalized we'll have the CFO get you set up!"
> Shake her hand back harder. Faster. You must win this battle of wills.
This is your Big Gamer Moment. You got this.
> I then start recording a video, "Hey Gamerzillas and Gamerzillettes, it's your boi Glorbo here! We're about to do our paper work LIVE! I'm also a father now." -Motions to the babies- "So, gotta work hard to feed our babies and get that PS5. Maybe rent?? Aight, let's get going!"
YOU MAKE SURE TO SAY IT REALLY LOUD SO THE FANS BACK HOME CAN HEAR (assuming your cybernetic implants are actually able to stream transuniverses?)
The random key lady seems suitably impressed by your gamer energy.
You gain +2 Morale! You don't get any Dignity back, though. The -Dignity route locks you out of getting passive Dignity points unless you're ACTIVELY trying. You do get a +1 gamer pity point though.
> ask who the CFO is... what does CFO stand for, anyway?
The key lady tells you it stands for Chief Financial Officer. You think they probably do math or something.
> Probably give the camera back.
Nah, this baby is yours forever. Maybe if you don't say anything they won't notice it as you slide it into your jacket. Success! You gain +1 Theft! This will totally have 0 consequences.
> Commit more crimes
Well, TECHNICALLY you are kind of actively kidnapping this basket full of babies. Soooo...
> Attempt to SEARCH and pickpocket the lady, since she's letting you get away with theft
As your hand brushes her pocket you are grabbed by a bunch of guys who DEFINITELY weren't there before and you are bodily hauled into a side room without a door.
The key lady shouts after you as you're dragged off: "Robert Bobert will help you settle in! Good luck!"
> Check on the babies.
The babies are wiggling erratically as you're being carried off. Some are falling off the basket and onto the wooden floor. You think you see one fall through one of the rotten planks. The humanity. This is carnage. You don't care if the narrative engine won't recognize it, you're giving yourself +1 Trauma.
> Wave to the key lady as you go.
You wave back to the key lady, causing more babies to go flying. She waves back at you with the same enthusiasm but with less airborne children.
The flock of guys carrying you off to what you can only assume is job Valhalla stop at nothing as they tear through any old urniture and boards out of the way-- it comes to your attention that they haven't opened any doors, and they're taking a frankly sickening amount of turns for a workplace enviroment. Just before you can think about that for much longer, you feel the air under you as they toss you into another room, one which you can, from your current vantage point, read it is labelled as the "R&D Department".
Well. You think you just got a job?
Congratulations! You are now a Category 1 Research Intern!
Just as you gather yourself (and the leftover babies on your basket), you see the mysterious man walk into the office. "Oh yeah, congratulations on your promotion, by the way! Nice Pocket Protector."
Did... did you just get promoted because you stole that pocket protector?
Congratulations! You are now a Category 2 Research Specialist becayse you stole that Pocket Protector!
Oh. Thanks.
> Count the remaining babies.
After careful counting, you believe there are a total of five babies left.
> Does that mean you have to work now? Look for anything that looks like you should work on it
Probably! You find a single folder labelled "R&D and You- For the Prospective Employee".
(For people who are CURRENTLY LIVE, you can research the page-- typing should be smoother -JR)
> Open the folder.
You open the folder. You find the following:
TBD lol hopefully you won't need this before we hire you
don't even worry about it just listen to bobert and you'll be fine
otherewise you're on your own lmao B)
Well, shit.
> With a sagely nod, I throw the folder into the recycling bin. Nature needs this more than us. Trees will heal. The babies bore witness and will become good to the environment from my example. All is good.
Not like you fucking need it. You're about to toss the folder before another Sticker Set slides out of the back of it. It falls through one of the floor cracks, into the floor below.
This sucks. You think.
(whoops typo lol it was refresh. Refresh the page. Writing is hard. it's hard and no one understands- IC)
> Oh my god, the stickers! Follow them. Get them. Please, dear god.
> I use the company's phone and hire a babysitter. If there are any with multiple heads, that would be best. I'm busy, gotta make sure the babies are fine while I HUNT FOR THE STICKERS
> go to any and all lengths to get that stickerset back. you NEED it
> Peewee Get The Stickers
The viewers have chosen (and also correctly spoken your name, good job). You must become...........
You BARREL TOWARDS THE PHONE as you gingerly try hire a babysitter for the kids but then you realize you don't speak the foreign language. Italian? Whatever. You gently give them to Bobert, putting your soft hand on their little faces as a goodbye, before you RUN OUT THE FUCKING ROOM AND TURN A CORNER AND TURN A CORNER AND TURN A CORNER AND TURN A CORNER AND TURN A CORNER AND TURN A CORNER AND TURN A CORNER Aaaand now you're lost. Where are you. What the fuck is this open floor plan. You don't see an exit.
> RIP stickers. Hopefully you'll stumble across them at some point, but you don't even know where you are, much less the stickers.. Truly a tragedy.
Truly so. You shed a gamer tear. It fogs up your goggles.
> What, isn't there like, a glowing quest tracker tucked away in those epic gamer instincts of yours? You need 100%. WE need 100%.
You turn on your gamer quest tracker, and all it does is point out that the objective for this area is, indeed, in this office. Turns out 1. Hidden objects don't tend to be highlighted on quest trackers, and 2. The world is buggy as shit.
You do, however, stop to check what the current objective is. According to your sensors, it is currently "Learn How To Jorb [sic]".
> what does the room look like?
The room looks like nothing. The walls and the floor and everything here has been painted pure white. Your tail smells of wet paint.
> Take your camera out and loudly announce: "WHAT'S UP GAMERS, IF CHAT CAN SEND ME A MAP OF THIS PLACE I WILL BE GIVING OUT 25 GIFTED SUBS!"
Your voice echoes through the hallway. You don't think anyone can hear you from here.
> I breath in, and out. I then decease my weight so the wind can take me to my destination. After all, if the wind can pick up the stickers, they can pick up my flow and help me find them. Perhaps, in the wind, I will learn Italian. Much like that movie, Pocahantas, except with Spaghetti and Meatballs instead of gold.
You take a deep breath. You let the flow of the wind consume you, going through your lungs and through your limbs. If you really believe in yourself, you can truly become weightless. You close your eyes... you're doing it...
You open up your eyes and all you see is the ceiling. You have successfully gotten the back of your jacket also covered in wet paint.
> Do a funny little dance to numb the pain.
You do a funny little dance. It is appropiately pathetic. You're glad no one can see you, not counting the dozen or so audience members in your brain.
> In a last ditch effort... I call out Nintendo Power Magazine and see if they invented Mario yet. I need him to help me.
Mario cannot answer you. No italians can save you now.
> No, be proud of your dance. Remember your sick moves from the void? You look so cool.
What void?
[You hear the sound of footsteps in the distance.]
> prepare for strife
You ACCESS YOUR STRIFE--
Oh. You can't access your Strife Specibus. Well. Uh. Uh--
PREPARE TO FIGHT! You-- you pull out the pencil from your POCKET PROTECTOR, prepared to MODERATELY INCONVENIENCE SOMEONE. You--
Oh it's just a fuckin' guy. Okay. You awkwardly shove your pencil back in your protector.
The man-- one of the painters-- rushes in with 3 babies attached to his legs and a map. He SLAMS a map into your open hand. Success! You look at it and--
This means nothing to you.
You've lost 25 subs worth of currency! You now have minus whatever that was. You're. You're probably already in debt.
(Do. Do we have a Title for that?)
Congratulations! You have achieved Debt in the first 24 hours of a spawn. You have obtained the Title "Student Debt Speedrun"!
(oh. we do. carry on then.)
> I play that sad sailor Spongebob music... err... I guess sad sailor music since Spongebob isn't here. I slowly go back to my babies to inform them I have to sell them to slavery in order to get enough money so I can raise them. This makes sense.
You would do that if you knew how to get back. The man is already gone before you can ask. One of the babies fell off his leg, though. It's yellow.
> oh good free yellow baby
> pick up the yellow babie
> I resist the urge to eat the baby, and instead name it Watt Jr. Sr.
You grab the baby. The baby mostly just vibes there, as most babies in your societies work. It is mostly blind, currently, and does not try to fight against you.
Also, yeah, fuck it. Sure. You say hello to Watt Jr. Sr.
> Have the baby ride around on your head. Achieve peak DollSim.
You put the baby on your head as you note your current lack of basket. This is it. This is peak.
1/??? Watts collected this playthrough!
What.
> oh good free yellow baby
> pick up the yellow babie
> I resist the urge to eat the baby, and instead name it Watt Jr. Sr.
You grab the baby. The baby mostly just vibes there, as most babies in your societies work. It is mostly blind, currently, and does not try to fight against you.
Also, yeah, fuck it. Sure. You say hello to Watt Jr. Sr.
> Have the baby ride around on your head. Achieve peak DollSim.
You put the baby on your head as you note your current lack of basket. This is it. This is peak.
1/??? Watts collected this playthrough!
What.
> oh good free yellow baby
> pick up the yellow babie
> I resist the urge to eat the baby, and instead name it Watt Jr. Sr.
You grab the baby. The baby mostly just vibes there, as most babies in your societies work. It is mostly blind, currently, and does not try to fight against you.
Also, yeah, fuck it. Sure. You say hello to Watt Jr. Sr.
> Have the baby ride around on your head. Achieve peak DollSim.
You put the baby on your head as you note your current lack of basket. This is it. This is peak.
1/??? Watts collected this playthrough!
What.
> try to figure out why time just happened three times
Oh. Hm.
IC: ohh fuck. my b. that is. that's a new one.
IC:this control console's running on a little man with no feelings, y'all. that's not even a joke.
IC: here just. just take this and pretend this was intentional okay.
IC: maaaan. this is gonna SUCK later down the line.
SECRET UNLOCKED??? You have achieved the rare Duplication (triplication) glitch!!!
3/??? Watts collected this playthrough(?)!
Well, fuck. Guess you'll enjoy your three new exactly identical babies.
> Cherish the Watts. Any iteration of Watt is precious and deserves love and support.
You take some time to cherish your Watts. They are all stacked on top of your head in order of birth. Or, well, you suppose duplication.
You are still so lost.
> Look up a glitch FAQ for this game.
You try to connect to the network only to discover that apparently wherever you are somehow doesn't have WiFi. What the hell?
> Take one Watt off of your head and hold it in front of you like a dowsing rod. They will decide your direction.
The little guy sort of waves one of his meaty appendages towards the south.
You move south for a while, avoiding any twists and turns. All of the rooms are doorless and rotting. As you go you see less and less paint? That...might be a bad sign. If those painter guys hadn't been here yet?
> Trust in Watt. Continue. Surely, he's leading you to your--OUR--beloved stickers.
You continue heading towards the South. At this point there isn't even paint on anything. You're getting a little creeped out at all the exposed rotting wood...
> Take the time to try and get the paint off your jacket.
You figure if there's no new wet paint, at least you can try to clean up a bit. You feel almost presentable at the end.
> Where are your fingers?
Aaaat the ends of your hands? Why. Where are yours?
>
Ah. Okay. Good. You're glad you're alone in your own head again.
> Continue southward. Embrace being lost.
As you continue wandering southward the Truth of your situation occurs to you. You really ARE lost.
There's something freeing to it. After so long, so many loops just trying to have any positive affect on the world around you... To just embrace being lost? There's serenity in that.
Eventually, somehow, despite there still not being any paint on the wall, you find yourself back at the room labeled "R&D Department".
> I adjust my tie, makesure the Watts are in a single file line, then knock on the door politely. Surely, there will be help here.
You fail to adjust your tie as you didn't know you'd be interviewing anywhere today. (or ever)
But you do make sure you and the Watts are ready and knock on the door.
> Is it actually the same room?
It does seem to be! Robert Bobert answers the door and seems unsurprised to see you.
"It's closing time. After hours. You ready to sleep?"
> Not until every last baby has been tucked in, you aren't!
You kiss the little foreheard of the three Watts and the Five Mysterious Unnamed Babies and tuck them in. (who could be watt, but are not)
> Uh. Okay, sure why not. Just roll with it I guess?
ATTENTION: HIBERNATION MECHANIC INITIATIED. PLEASE INPUT HOW LONG (IN DAYS) YOU WISH TO SLEEP.
> 8 hours
ERROR: DAYS NOT FOUND
> Sleep for 0.333333 days
INPUT ACCEPTED.
1972 April 1st: 10:13 am
You are inside the R&D department. Looks like you have a door now! Robert Bobert is drinking a thimble sized coffee.
> How are the kids doing?
They're crawling all over the rotting, nail ridden wood. The seem more ambulatory than you would have expected given how fresh they seemed. They grow up so fast. (not that you know a whole lot about how fast wigglers are supposed to grow)
> do we need caffeine? I need caffeine in the morning but Peewee may not
You could definitely use a little bit of g-fuel to amp up your gaming cred. You ask Robert Bobert if they have any and he just says "Coffees good!" in a cheerful voice.
> GET COFFEE
But but. Your gamer fuel. Coffee simply doesn't have enough gamer cred to give you the energy you need.
> GET COFFEE
But but. Your gamer fuel. Coffee simply doesn't have enough gamer cred to give you the energy you need.
> acquire COFFEE HATRED X2 COMBO!
You fail to acquire any additional COFFEE HATRED as it is already at max! Even the mightiest of glitches cannot surpass your MAXIMAL HATRED of the inferior energy source.
> G FUEL DOES NOT EXIST UNTIL 2012 YOU WILL NEED ANOTHER SOURCE OF CAFFINE
Then you suppose you just will not have any energy until 2012.
OBJECTIVE ACQUIRED: REACH 2012!
> Being in the 70's probably also explains why you didn't have WiFi earlier. God the 70's suck.
It really does. You want to just ....leave it as soon as possible.
> Sleep for 14,609.7 days to reach 2012
Is...is that possible?
INPUT ACCEPTED.
DM NOTE: Real Time DMing is closed. It will resume in [ERROR: FUTURE KNOWLEDGE NOT FOUND]. Notifications will be made through the Eyes of Zampanio when DMing resumes. It is anticipated for it to open nearly daily.
> dm: resume telling a story
You find yourself once again drawn towards telling a story. What was going on again? Oh. Right. An inexplicable 40 year sleep cycle.
Excellent. You can work with this.
You find yourself in an incredibly dark room. A shadowy figure is looming in front of you and shining a light in your face as you blink up at it.
> I take out my signature all American baseball bat beside the bed that most suburban homes have.
You groggily try to reach for some sort of bat or homerun-creating object, and you find there is none. You do, however, notice that your trusty Pocket Protector is still on you. Damn. This thing is... uh... well it's built tough. You don't have anything to compare it to at the moment though.
> Oh my gosh, the prompt was followed through. At least now you can get G-Fuel. Finally.
At last, you can get the siren's tear. The water of life. The mountain's dew. Man, that last one would make a killer name for a drink. Point is you're so close.... to your precious G-Fuel.
> Remember your training. No screaming. Stare it down silently.
You remember your 35-minute training that involved devouring two baskets of fruit in a room full of children and proceed to use that knowledge to... uh... stare. That's what you got out of that. No upsetting implications about the shape of life and how it is unknown and unfathomable.
They stare at you back, poking you ever-so-slightly with some sort of cane and attempting to blind you every so often. Thankfully, your goggles have finally calibrated to "Please No Bully" mode, after all these years.
> despite this being scary say hi to them
You mutter a 'hi'. The figure tenses up a bit at that, and they seem to mutter to themselves. "You... uh... I'm here to collect your debt?"
OBJECTIVE ACQUIRED: REACH 2012!
> Activate night vision goggles.
You turn your night-vision goggles to ONE HUNDRED PERCENT CAPACITY and immediately fucking blind yourself on the light in front of you.
> I grab the babies and run. Eventually there will be an explosion behind me that could remove the evidence, right?
You fail to grab the babies and run because there ARE no babies. You are alone in this dark space with this apparent collector.
> Now you can scream, it's okay. Let it out.
You begin winding up for enough screams to make up for 40 years of maze-themed nightmares.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴬᴼᴴᴴᴴᴴᴴᴴ ᶠᵁᶜᴷ
> Did you just blackout for like half an hour
> Question the collector about where your children are.
You stand up, breaking into a small frenzy about your children. You start YELLING AT THEM about what they DID TO YOUR CHILDREN, and you promise incredible retribution to them and their dog if they don't tell you where they are, d-damn it!
Now, you normally wouldn't be able to faze a normal debt collector. But this greenhorn? Look at them. They're shaking in their boots... or you suppose were shaking. Your sufficiently pathetic Dignity score makes you looked like a scared, lost cat that would go meow meow some times to try and defend its starving litter. Your brazen display of sad wailing and cowering for your children seems to has eased their heart a little, and they at least stop poking you with the damn walking stick.
'Listen, man, uh... you have a debt? You know, the one you took on, uh...'
> ask what the debt is > ok calm down got to figure out what the debt they want is
They lower their hat in slight embarrassment. "Uh, well, yeah. You probably just... uh... woke up, right? Nice, hm, tail. By the way," they say. 'You seem to have... hm. Let's see... took on a debt... for '25 gifted subs'... fourty years ago?''
> Skirem.
Fuck, guess you DID wake up somewhere, being held for crimes you don't remember committing... shit, no, yeah. This is exactly Skyrim. You're upset at how Skyrim this is.
You have obtained the achievement 'Hey, You, You're Finally Awake'! Only [var] more remaining! The rough 15-45 minutes of JR screaming at a poor, poor robot have been skipped for your convenience! All routes are now +5 more profane! +3 things are no longer on fire. For future bugs, please help yourself to a one hour rendition of 'Just Add Water'. Don't tell JR.
> Ah. Fuck. That debt. Ask how much you owe.
"Ah, well, shit." The novice debt collector scratches their chin. They then pull out a Pocket Calculator after putting away their cane and flashlight. "Well, you got something called '25 subs', which I guess are like, something? Frankly we have no idea what it was, you can just get 'em for free on youtube, you know, sub4sub, right? But the contract says they're worth 5 dollars each. So, together, they're 125 dollars. Then you add a 20% interest rate, and adjust for the 40 years... you owe... around one hundred eighty-three thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one dollars? Oh, and fourty three cents."
Oh fuck.
They shrug. "Yeah, beats me why you were hi-ber-nate-ing this whole damn time instead of payin' that off, but who knows, that's your, uhm, your business." The client, uh... they're apparently fine with you gettin' just those, uh, those subs back. So... you got around... the end of this year, to get that done? You're gonna have a lot more loan sharks 'round ya now that you're moving."
> tell the collector you can pay them in exposure
They say they're fine, thanks.
> ask exactly when the debt is due
"Uh. The end of the year. December 21st-ish 2012. Hopefully it won't be the total end of all years, but y'never know, right?"
> ask why a loan shark was there the SECOND you woke up
The shark just looks embarrassed again. "Ey, I don't--- I just got my job, 'kay? Apparantly this is, uh, like a thing that they do to newbies. They send us here to try n' get your debt. Apparently it's a decade-old trad now."
You raise a brow. Like a hazing ritual?
"Eh? No, stupid, I don't smoke."
That's not-- you know what, nevermind. It's fine.
> Well. Guess you're in debt now. Fun. TBH I don't have any advice here. Sorry.
It's fine, Observer. You go to check your STATS to show the passerby in your brain that apparently your Depression stat gets higher by doing stats associated with depression, one of which is extended and irregular sleep. You just took the most irregular nap, so...
Your Depression stat has gone up by +19723499999999ERROR!
The world is full of little secrets, isn't it? Speedrunning sure is great. (although you didn't need help of any game systems to tell you that.)
> ask how you get out of this weird dark room
The loan collector points at the door 3 feet away from you. You didn't see it before because you blinded yourself like a dunkass.
> Take out your camera. Start streaming. "WHAT'S UP MY BEAUTIFUL WATCHERS WE ARE BACK FROM A 40 YEAR HIBERNATION SEQUENCE, NOW, IF ANYBODY CAN TELL ME WHERE MY BABIES ARE, I WILL BE GIVING AWAY YET ANOTHER 25 SUBS!"
You start LOUDLY PROCLAIMING YOUR INCREDIBLE GENEROSITY TO THE MASSES in order to VERY CHARITABLY OBTAIN INFORMATION FROM YOUR AUDIENCE.
As if on cue, an oddly familiar guy dressed in a nice brown jacket with a turtleneck underneath BARRELS through the door. He points up then he runs away again.
Holy fuck! You've somehow lost another 125 dollars (or 25 subs). You now owe 50 subs (or 183,846.43 italian dollars, or whatever you want to call them)!
> Stop using these dumb night goggles.
You'd rather die.
> Look up. Who knows what could be there? Secrets? Stickers? I hope it's stickers.
Good catch! You look up and a drop of water falls directly onto your goggles. You go to shake it off, accidentally tripping the loan shark with the back of your tail, and a STICKER SET falls off from underneath his hat. Sick!
This sticker set contains:
>A spiral-person in a green onesie smashing a robot with a steel chair;
>A dubious goose from the hit movie GOOZTALEZ (a segundian classic)
>Some sort of strange slug-thing exploding;
>A mop with a little party hat. >'Sticker Set [111/113]' has been added to your inventory!
> Children located. Let's get going, then. Leave the room.
> Go UP
> go upstairs, find the babies
You run (or slither) upstairs, pushing the loan shark out of the way as you try to make your way out.
You then find your immediate first obstacle to finding your children:
NEW OBJECTIVE: Where the fuck are the stairs.
> just find the stairs lol
You would, if you knew were you were. This weird open-floor plan feels very strangely familiar.
Almost kind of... traumatic.
> go south
You use your ADVANCED DIRECTOR SENSORS to find the exact magnetic field and then slam your head on the wall in front of you.
> Sheepishly ask the loan shark if he knows where the stairs are.
You turn around to ask. Unfortunately, the loan shark is currently unconscious from either a lack of sticker sets, or an overdose of concrete to the face.
> Go down.
You attempt to, but your tail is in the way.
> Stick the original mop sticker on the loan shark's arm, just in case he needs stickers to live, or something.
You give the Loan Shark a little mop sticker on his forehead. He is still very limp.
> Try to wake him up? Slap Hank.
You slap some sort of three-eyed alien dressed in very patriotic clothing. You register this person has never existed, and when you blink he's no longer there.
Yeah. Sure. Whatever.
> Embrace Being Lost Simulator Part 2: Where The Fuck Are The Stairs Edition.
You've done this before. You muster all your care in the world and then toss it out the metaphorical window, letting your fucks fly free, your worries gone with them. It's fine. All you have to do is accept that it's all strange all the time. It's all...
...you have...
...to do?
You start walking with no direction in mind, except for one that goes, you know, NORTH/NORTH/EAST/NORTH/NORTH/NORTH/EAST/SOUTH/ SOUTH/EAST/SOUTH/ILLUSION1/NORTH/EAST/ EAST/EAST/EAST/SOUTH/NORTH/ EAST/EAST/SOUTH/NORTH/EAST/EAST/EAST/NORTH. You do that and now you're in front of some stairs.
> remember that you're warned about stairs, bro
DM NOTE: Real Time DMing is closed. It will resume in [ERROR: FUTURE KNOWLEDGE NOT FOUND]. Notifications will be made through the Eyes of Zampanio when DMing resumes. It is anticipated for it to open nearly daily.
> dm: resume telling story
You find yourself once again drawn towards telling a story. What was going on again? Oh. Right. Peewee is inexplicably falling up some stairs for forever.
>Peewee: Land already.
>
All routes are now at neutral profanity and +5 politeness going forwards!
You land at the top of some stairs in a sea of beige cubicles. You see a break room nearby and an office labeled "CFO"
> Hm. Check out the break room first?
Your never ending thirst for gfuel (and finding your babies) leads you inevitably to the break room.
There's a full sized fridge (nice), a water cooler, an incredibly fancy (and complicated) looking coffee machine and a guy standing in front of it, swearing as it spews hot liquid betrayal in all directions.
> Oh no. Maybe ask if they need help? This is a pretty messy situation, and idk HOW you'd help, but surely something can be done about this coffee disaster.
You barely manage to start offering to help when the guy boggles at you vacantly for a solid 30 seconds. Really staring you down.
...
It's really kind of awkward.
When they finally regain proper cognitive brain function, they jump out of the way of the spewing hot coffee and curse for ANOTHER solid thirty seconds as you just kind of stand around.
Finally, they turn to you. "HOLY FUCK! DAD?! What are YOU doing awake?!""
> awkwardly try to taste the coffee because you cant use g-fuel for caffeine
ABSOLUTELY NOT. THE HOT FIRES AND DRY TREES OF SEGUNDIAN HELL CAN TAKE YOU FIRST BEFORE YOU EVEN CONSIDER DRINKING THIS PURE AND UTTER SW--
>question why they're calling you dad
They cross their arms and look away petulantly, furrowing their brow ever deeper. "Yeah. I ask myself that same question every day," they mumble. "Asshole."
>Try for a very coffee-stained hug. They're all grown up and you MISSED IT because of your G-Fuel coma???
They DODGE your hug with unexplainable finesse! Truly, your child has grown to be a good gamer-- that, or a very fine set of legs that don't suffer from friction.
"Oh, now you want to try to parent? Tough shit, d-- uh-- you! Last chance you had was forty years ago, and you blew it!"
1... out of 3... out of ??? Watts collected this playthrough?
> Address the rogue coffee machine before moving on to bitter reunion.
You use your EPIC GAMING SKILLS to quickly unplug the hateful bean machine.
> take a conciliatory selfy with your wayward son
You somehow manage to still have your INSTANT CAMERA and you snap a quick selfie with your beloved child. Something in him softens in response.
"Yeah. Okay. I GUESS its better late than never."
> where am I????????
"Eyedol Games HQ? I thought that was obvious? " His brow furrows a bit as he thinks. "Oh! Right. You probably don't remember the move. Weren't we back in Italy still when you fell asleep? " He seems fond as he realizes how clueless you are.
> ask son where the gfuel is
"Fuck you." he says, face instantly growing dour again.
> injest omnipresent gfuel
You fail to ingest the omnipresent G-Fuel. For some ungodly reason, unbeknownst to all reason and rationality, there is only coffee here. The world is bleak and you are alone.
>Stop being a dunkass and apologize to your child
Yeah, sure, you know how to do that. You take another selfie with your child, and it seems to calm him down some, even if he is no less dour.
>> Ask them if their siblings are here.
"What? No. We didn't even think you'd wake up for another, oh, you know. four MONTHS?! To sate your fucking G-Fuel craze." They sigh in exasperation, pinching the bridge of their nose. " Melon's not even in the office today! Well. He's never in the office, but this time it's his birthday. "
> And for the love of god, TRY to suppress your fucking G-Fuel craze. You have a family now you crackfiend.
You had a family then, too. This is just who you are, and you'll thank the random thoughts in your head to stop trying to change you. After all, you know what they say. If they can't handle you at your "G-Fuel Crackfiend", they don't deserve you at... uh...
...hm...
> Melon? They took new names? ...Ask your child what their new name is.
"Rebel", he says, deadpan, not impressed by your question. "What? Were you hoping for 'Watt Senior Junior', huh? Or whatever inane thing you called me for like five minutes, like it would stay stay that way? Like it was forever?" They hiss their words at you, pain unapparent. Apparently you leaving for 40 years was like, a huge thing to these three kids, and you would be feeling a lot guiltier about it if you could wrap your head around all that.
>> Firstly, Melon is a nice name. Be sure to tell him that sometime. Secondly, ask if there’s anything you can get Melon for his birthday.
He steps back a bit, nearly bumping into the coffee machine, out of nothing more than confusion at your quick change from doting father to G-Fuel fiend, and then back, like a metronome powered by a livewire. "Just-- anything but your fucking gamer beverage, for the love of the 8 Divine..."
> Ask how they know about the G-Fuel craze.
They manage to strongly convey that their blank hollow eyes are rolling. They must've been training for this moment, because it's flawless. That, or they have really learned to make it work in this society. "Bro told us aaaaall the stories about you. You know, while you were busy sleeping all the time. Typical we had to hear about our father from a second source."
> Express that you will try to be better about your craze. You’re a bit split in have and clearly need to get your shit together? But who’s bro?
You suddenly realize just how BAD this looks from the outside. An image appears in your head, unbidden, sent by some kind of Herald of Reality itself.
Ah.
You promise Rebel you will be better. Who needs energy for their gaming related cybernetic implants? Not this guy!
Oh, yeah, they say. Bro apparently owns the company or something. It's pretty... uh. It's. It's no big deal. Fuck the whole aura of unknowing, right?
> Ask how Bro knows about the G-Fuel craze. And how carrying them around stacked on your head for half an hour while lost counts as fatherhood.
You feel there's a more tactful way to ask that question, but them's the breaks, you suppose. Can't stop what's already flown out your damn mouth hole.
Rebel exhales out of his nose as he disdainfully suggests that you ask Big Bro about all that. All they know is you're their dad, and you're kind of a shit one.
Congratulations! Your Parenting skills go up by 1 from their previous -13! Somewhere else, a Herald of Reality gains +1 Reality Alteration by diverting the course of your Deadbeating with a surgically-aimed guilt-trip, but this is both a stat that is both useless and also does not exist. Hooray!
> Ask if all three kids still share the same birthday, or if they celebrate on different days, or something.
Rebel explains they all pupated on different days. Melon was first-- dangerously first. He didn't pupate quite right-- but that's not his business. He doesn't even know why he's telling you. Psh.
> I, an observer, am now curious to what the divine 8 are
Oh, they probably are...
...are...
...
Nevermind. There is something psychologically terrifying at the thought of getting an answer to this. Your jaw clenches tight and you say no more.
> this purple text is something that both scares me and interests me
NO.
> you may need to fully get out of a gamer mode for now, focusing on reality is more important right now
You ironically get your head back in the game and ask Rebel where you can find Big Bro, then.
He gives you a convoluted series of directions to weave through the various beige cubicles and suggests you go quickly so the path doesn't change too much.
> Thank Rebel, and promise you'll get a present for him to when his day rolls around. You know it probably doesn't mean shit considering your ass actions but eh
Rebel lets you know that his birthday is June 4th and that you better get him something good.
You realize you have a choice now. Do you try to get to BigBro as fast as possible? Do you explore a bit? Or do you want to check out that CFO's office you found before venturing into the cubicle maze?
> go to bro, gotta make up for being a bad dad
Say no more! It's time for another........
You speedrun the maze of cubicles like the EPIC GAMER you are, barrel-rolling over workstations and half-press-a jumping over several guys with the exact same brown suit-- you find out that you can bunny hop so you start doing that all the way to the OFFICE. Paper flies everywhere. Extremely important documents fall over. You're pretty sure that your CYBERNETICS voided the insurance of around twenty different devices in the last fifteen seconds. After breaking the biggest mechnanical sweat of your life, you find yourself in front of a fairly swanky office labeled "CEBro".
A voice calls out from behind the closed door. "Peewee! Welcome! Glad you found your way here in time! Did you want your Gamer Fuel, bro?"
They've been expecting you.
> You did, but you wanted to talk to them first. They're more important. They're more important, r i g h t ?
> no its a trap don't go in
> game fuel!
talk to bro, don't take the g-fuel
> get. the. g-fuel. fuck them kids
ERROR: You are paralyzed by indecision.
DM NOTE: Real Time DMing is closed. It will resume in [ERROR: FUTURE KNOWLEDGE NOT FOUND]. Notifications will be made through the Eyes of Zampanio when DMing resumes. It is anticipated for it to open nearly daily.
> dm: experiment with the medium
You find yourself realizing that locking story telling to real time back and forth might not be sustainable in the long run.
What if you.... yesssssssss...
>dm: make with the explanation already
Yeah, yeah, okay. SO. From now on, commands will be left unlocked. Feel free to input suggestions while there is no DM present and they will be addressed the next time a DM is online.
This does mean you'll just need to check back periodically to see if theres new story to build off of, but I have reason to believe that won't be a problem with this group.
Peewee is currently struggling to decide whether to trust the offer of g-fuel from behind a closed door, whether to resist the siren song of barely edible battery acid and go in merely to talk, or to flee back into the maze.
________________________________________
What will he do?
> you've been asleep for 40 years just drink the damn g-fuel already
You slink into the room and accept your damn g-fuel already. As you feel the energy sink into your bones you suddenly feel more aware, more able to resist your worser impulses.
You gain +13 ENERGY!
Now that you are RECHARGED and READY TO GO, you're able to actually pay attention to the room you find yourself in. That lady with the keys, 40 years older and grinning broadly at you is who just had handed you your precious precious Gamer Fuel.
> Thank her. Finally, G-Fuel at long last.
You thank her, well and truly, from the bottom of your heart.
You earn +5 GRATITUDE POINTS from the lady! She will remember how polite you are!
> who the hell is this lady?
You feel the inexplicable urge to immediately start swearing at her and making various demands, but luckily your high ENERGY RATING means you can resist those urges.
> is SHE CEBro? If not, where are they?
She confirms she is in fact the Chief Executive Brocifer of Eyedol games and shakes your hand again, taking the lead on selfies with her phone. She shows you how many likes it gets within seconds on twitter. She seems quite proud of this fact. More so than of being the boss of this whole entire company.
> Ask her where your son is. You know, the one who's birthday it is? You really ought to make up for those 40 deadbeat years!
She snorts and dissolves into debilitating laughter. All you can get out of her for several minutes is just "Oh 8 divine", and "Corn Maze".
> Ask her if the eight divines are a skyrim refrance
NO.
> peewee do you know what relativity is?
As you watch the "CeBro" of Eyedol games lose her shit laughing for several consecutive minutes you idly wonder if the speed of light matters in this situation. After some consideration, you conclude it probably does not.
> I sense you hide something peewee
You are NOT interested in thinking about anything like that right now, thank you very much. Its hard enough just getting used to this Universe.
>Ask what's so funny.
She's laughing way to hard to answer you right now.
> Do something cool to impress the CeBro.
>🎃
You try to apearify a pumpkin out of nowhere to impress the CEBro, but sadly you are not a LEVEL FOUR MAGICIAN yet. The exertion causes you to tangle your tail into itself and fall over.
Being on the -dignity route past 1996 causes all dignity losses to be doubled! You lose 4 dignity! Congratulations your title of "Apprentice Little Meow Meow" has upgraded to "Poor Little Meow Meow"!
> *politely* ask if you earned any money - you've been in the company for 40 years, after all
> this is your boss, right? you've got a debt to pay so you can buy presents for the kids
You politely ask the CeBro about your job. Your POLITENESS QUOTIENT finally breaks her out of her hysterical laughing.
"Oh right! Thems the breaks kids but you passed the fuck out before you could manage to talk to the CFO, so you haven't been on payroll this whole time! But if you go see her I'm sure we can set you up with some kinda repayment plan. The Toms are p chill like that."
> Ponder how much money you would've made since you were lying on the ground for 40 years
Your GAMING IMPLANTS confirm its a hell of a lot more than one hundred eighty-three thousand, seven hundred and twenty-one dollars, and forty three cents.
> Ask her how she had G-Fuel when G-Fuel isn't supposed to come out for another five months. And also how she knew you slept for 40 years over it.
She smiles and says "Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy" and refuses to elaborate.
> have you heard of this species known as quotidians before?
She rolls her eyes. "Ugh, don't remind me. They won't leave me alone long enough to even eat some Doritos (tm).
> Oh. Well that sounds better than nothing so get yo butt over to the CFO
You politely thank the CeBro for her time and head back into the maze of cubicles. You can go NORTH, SOUTH or EAST from here. Your GAMER INDUCED FUGUE state to reach here means you no longer remember how to get back to the CFO's office. Which way will you go?
> Hmmm. North?
You head NORTH. After a few minutes of beige cubicles(none of which have employees....you're starting to wonder how this company makes any money, you almost slither over a bright yellow tail.
"Whoa, hey man, not cool!" you hear before a head pops out over the cube wall.
