CYOA: Sans interactivity

AIM: Pancaek Beast | E-mail: shdwdde@gmail.com | Denny's House of Pancaeks



Terra vs. Kerrigan (Matches: 8/9 Points: 8/9)

You shake your arms a bit, feeling the burn of hurling the aircraft double-handedly. A potent combination of famine broods in your mammalian mind, and before you know it, you have entered the airport. A host of passengers has gathered for the six o' clock flight, and they regard you with some curiosity. Their pitiful crawling humanoid forms have infested the entirety of the airport. You couldn't throw a barrel without crushing one of their heads.

And then you spot a conspicuously empty area. A ring of people seems to have formed around a portion of the floor next to a wall. It catches your attention, and you step on a few passengers to get there. It does occur to you briefly that some of the contestants may be in the crowd, but there is no way in hell that you're going to waste time mingling.

As expected, the "avoid zone" surrounds the airport cafe. You go in and look around. A very shady, tentacled mass is lurking in the shadows of it. A red band adorns on of the quivering tentacles. At the counter is a pale, underweight, lost-looking girl with green hair, sporting a red bow in it. You avoid eye contact with both, feeling their judging eyes upon your flamboyant necktie.

The unholy trio holds its silence for a few seconds before the girl at the counter breaks it. Timidly, she taps a little, clearly trying to get your attention. You continue to stare resolutely at the space between her and the alien in the corner. She lets out a little cough, a cough founded in the most delicate of vocal chords, but you still pay no heed. You are now examining your toes. They are very finely formed, melding quite smoothly into your feet.

"Excuse me?"

Finally, you look up at her without expression, dark eyes boring blankly into her pale ones.

"Would you... like a coffee?" she stammers.

You furrow your eyes just enough to make her swoon and pass out in terror. She falls rather crunchily to the floor behind the counter. You sidle your girth behind it and find, nestled there, a banana milkshake. The girl is beginning to come to beneath you, but no thread of attention can be spared to observe her varying states of consciousness. Reaching under your marsupial folds of skin, you produce a coin and deposit it down her cleavage. She shrieks, but it reflects off of deaf ears. The liquid is already slithering down your throat...

Ping! The glass shatters in your hand. You stick out your tongue, panicked, trying to catch the remains of the shake, but somehow, unrealistic physics propel it all over the floor instead. You look over and see a smirk on the twisted dark face of the girl in the corner. She sends her tentacle things at you, but it is clearly not enough. You feel some sort of psychic power attempting to grab you, but you are mother****ing Donkey Kong, and that **** doesn't fly with you.

Finally she begins to use her Psionic storms and sends her little Zerglings at you. You find them a minor inconvenience as you bat them away, slowly reaching the creature. She lashes out with her claw, and you catch it easily, breaking it and gripping her neck in the process. Zergs begin to gather around you, and the alien mutters incoherently through the pressure on her neck. You feel vague scratchings on your skin, certain irritation but of no real consequence... and then heat. Lots of it.

You turn around and see the pale girl, engulfed in white and purple flames. She is shooting random fire spells that cause fascinating dancing patterns. Unparalleled figurative language floods your mind, previously untapped verbiage potential, and loath are you that you do not have a pen or paper at the moment. In any case, the flames incinerate the Zergs quite effortlessly. You feel your rear end beginning to accumulate some burns and quickly exit the airport, still clutching the alien in your hand.

When you get outside, you remember again that there is no plane awaiting you. Somehow, however, the creature has managed to regain her voice and is now forcing it through your grip.

"I will dice you and liquify you until you are nothing more than coconut juice," it hisses.

Without a second thought, you roll her up into a ball, crushing her spine and various appendages, and shove her into your coconut gun. You fire once, and Sarah Kerrigan flies toward the sun.

(A) Go back to the airport. There have got to be challenges there.

(B) Go to the sports stadium and attention whore a bit. As in, get some positive attention.

(C) Find a movie and watch it in a theatre. You've got a sense of culture, right?

(D) Stand around. You are mother****ing Donkey Kong, and something will happen.

SD
Thursday, September 21, 2006


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