Grapple with the fact that the Derpy statue turned into a Nestlé® Wax Beetle™ thus disrupting your OTP. Curse the powers higher than you if you are not given a solid answer.
Also, carefully and quietly, explore further down the passageway.
>Grapple with the fact that the Derpy statue turned into a Nestlé® Wax Beetle™ thus disrupting your OTP. Curse the powers higher than you if you are not given a solid answer.
You are quite sure you have never been in possession of a "Derpy statue". Your Nestlé® Wax Beetle™ looks exactly as it always did.
You curse whatever power influenced you to ponder such stupid things.
>Also, carefully and quietly, explore further down the passageway.
Near the edge of the running water, you discover a side passageway. You can't see how far it goes.
>Follow the sound of the muttering voice (mad company is better than no company at all)
It appears to be coming from underwater.
An ominously pointed-looking fin breaks the surface.
>Upturn the mushroom and slide on it down the corridor with gleeful abandon, hoping not to sustain any serious injuries in the dark!
You hop onto the mushroom and slide down the corridor without a care in the world!
WHEEEEEEEE OH FUCK
You come to rest against a box-like object attached to the wall of the passage.
You're not hurt, but what dignity you have sustains a slight knock.
>Imagine yourself having a sweet rave party.
RANDOM IMAGINARY DANCE PARTY FOR NO REASON
>Brush your teeth
With this thing? You would admit you've been pretty gross today, but using that used toothbrush would definitely be going too far.
You saw what those bristles did to the fungus. You're not inflicting them upon your tender gums.
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Remember back in the 50s when they'd record like Elvis singing YOU AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A HOUND DOG and then they'd turn the record over and reverse it and it was all NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP and people were all like, "That is actually the voice of Satan coming from that song."
Pause and think about how the rave partygoers look oddly familiar.
The passage is long, and lined with more mushrooms.
>Also, make a crude slingshot out of the bone and one of the rubber bands in case you need a long range weapon.
The bone isn't really slingshot-shaped, but you wrap one of the bands around it anyway. With any luck, it should function as a basic catapult. >examine the box-like object
It contains a squirt gun behind a glass pane.
A note over the top reads "BREAK GLASS IN CASE OF EMERGENCY".
>Ride the PARDAY BUS
Dis bus iz da place to BE!
>Pause and think about how the rave partygoers look oddly familiar.
You pause the game.
Some of those guys did look rather familiar, didn't they?
>make friends with mr. shark
You unpause the game and approach the water. "Good morning Mr. Shark!"
"No it isn't!" says the voice. "And if all you have to offer are empty social niceties I have no time for you."
>Chop up the Nestlé® Wax Beetle™ so you can munch on the little pieces and not have to worry about it becoming a Derpy statue!
You don't have anything in your Inventory that's sharp enough to cut through a plastic toy!
>Did somebody say imaginary floating giant guitar?
Looks like somebody said imaginary floating giant guitar!
A voice interrupts your reverie.
"Are you here to listen to my philosophy, or not?"
>Invite Mr. Shark to stare into the dark abyss with you (see if it stares back).
The shark glares at you. "What would you know of the abyss, ape? You are weak. You will never be the Übermensch. Nietzsche can't save you from the pain of being. Nothing can."
>ask the shark if it is an antinatalist shark
"Naturally," replies the shark. "Perhaps you saw my blog on the intercoral?"
>Ask the shark if it's a marxist
"Whoever heard of a Marxist shark?" the shark snaps. "I have no use for ape economic systems, nor utopian ape philosophers with their petty class struggles and delusions."
>Be beautiful. That or use moral relativism on the shark.
The shark's sophisticated hat and mustache are making you uncomfortably aware of your own unkempt appearance, but you're not sure what you can do about that in this sewer. Instead, you opine to the shark that different cultures have different values, and therefore the moral course of action in a given situation may vary across cultures.
"According to the values of my culture, we have a moral duty to bite off the legs of moral relativists," the shark replies.
>Examine various meters in the pause menu
You have a moderate amount of STAMINA due to your recent rest, but it won't last unless you can find something to eat soon.
Your IMAGINATION meter is unusually high.
Your FETTLE meter has seen better days. You should be especially careful if you're planning on doing anything dangerous.
Your somewhat high ANORAKIA meter reflects your tendencies to absorb trivia and indulge atypical interests.
You are indeed getting enough OXYGEN.
Your DIGNITY level is rather low.
>Inquire about the squirt gun
You are quite certain that this is the first time you have ever seen a shark shrug.
"What would I know?" he says. "That thing's been here longer than I have. It's nothing to do with me."
>Inquire about the comment about laying eggs and atrocities
"Life is meaningless and suffering is all there is," says the shark antinatalist. "We fear death but we can never avoid it. We gorge ourselves on fish and squid to delay the agony of deprivation, and we mistake this for happiness. To a rational mind such as mine, the conclusion is inescapable: all life is a blight upon this planet!" He slaps his fin upon the floor in a gesture that is evidently supposed to appear forceful.
"Nobody chooses to be born into this miserable reality," the shark continues. "Life is inflicted upon us. Sharks are breeding all the time, bringing sharks into this world and condemning them to suffer! That is an atrocity!"
>Try to remember what your chainsmoking Aunt Cloris used to say about sharks with top hats.
You concentrate hard and your aunt's sage words drift to the forefront of your memory: "No matter how snazzy his top hat might be, you must never, ever allow a shark to drive. They can't steer with those fins of theirs. And be especially wary if they have German accents and shout 'Gotcha'!"
>Also, offer the shark one of your items in exchange for help.
"What would I want with any of that crap, Dummkopf?" says the shark. "You want my help? I'll give you a freebie: give up. You will never mean anything or amount to anything. You are a pitiful ape and your so-called happiness will never exceed your suffering. As you have not even the meagre intelligence of shark-kind, the best hope for your species is to be culled or neutered, along with all the other stupid beasts."
>And compliment his hat. It is, after all, quite becoming
You attempt to improve the shark's demeanour by remarking upon his excellent choice of headgear. Unfortunately, he is by now so hostile that he misunderstands your intentions completely.
"If all life is a meaningless blight upon this planet, then why is it so important that you keep your hat?"
"A childish attempt to obfuscate the issue," snaps the shark. "And one which certainly won't change the reality of your bleak existence, however much in denial you might be. Of course, this hat doesn't really mean anything. But I am not a wholly rational being, I will admit, or else I wouldn't have to endure the agonies of day to day living. This is my hat. I don't have many possessions, and I refuse to let you deprive me of this one."
>Ask his opinion on Dasein.
"I have no strong opinion on anthropocentric ape philosophers and their bizarre metaphysics," replies the shark, folding his fins. "I don't see that Heidegger's project concerns me."
>Ask him where the sewers go and if there's a way out.
The shark gives an irritable shrug.
"If I knew a way out of here, why would I be talking to you from a pool of ape faeces? I'd leave if I could."
>Contemplate breaking the glass with your bone and grabbing the squirt gun.
Yeah, you reckon you could totally do that. You're lost in a sewer. That definitely counts as an emergency.
Only problem is, you couldn't take the gun with you at the moment, since all the slots in your inventory are full.
>Apologize for your HILARIOUS ANTICS.
The shark still looks pretty pissed, so you try to calm him down. Alas, your awkward attempt at an apology meets with a stony silence.
>Wonder if you were deluding yourself about the flavours of truth and beauty being actual things. Try to recollect something about this from your education.
You recall that "truth" and "beauty" are merely old names for the flavours of top quarks and bottom quarks, and are no longer in use.
"Take the universe and grind it down to the finest powder and sieve it through the finest sieve and then show me one atom of truth, one molecule of beauty." - Haim Harari
That thing on your pause menu can't possibly have anything to do with actual quarks inside you, though, whatever its actual purpose might be. If you were made of mostly heavy quarks, you figure you'd probably have decayed by now, and you would definitely have noticed something like that happening.
>Post-apology, introduce yourself and inquire about his name.
You attempt to break the uncomfortable silence by introducing yourself. "Hi," you say. "My name's Zestpoole. What's yours?"
"I don't have a name," says the shark. "Nor do I care about yours, because I am a shark. And if you think your miserable excuse for an apology can even slightly make amends for the offence you have caused me today you are sorely mistaken."
>Poke the shark's eyes and take his lunch money
This is a really mean thing to do! But evidently this tiresome pessimist brings out the worst in you. You lunge forwards, aiming your right index finger at the shark's exposed left eye.
The shark bites down on your arm. The pain is excruciating, and your fettle takes a severe hit.
Worse still, the shark rolls his eyes back into his head, revealing their blank, glassy whites, and begins to forcefully pull you towards the water.
>Punch the shark in the nose with your other arm to establish superiority.
You sock the shark on the snout with your left hand, introducing its sensitive electroreceptors to some entirely necessary suffering.
The shark lets go of your other arm. It's bruised and bleeding, but thankfully not broken.
>With your free hand, give him a good bonking in the eye with your bone (like what the nature specials always say to do when being attacked by a shark)
You swing the butt of your PIG FEMUR SLINGSHOT into the shark's exposed eye. The shark recoils, stunned.
>While being attacked, point out to the shark that apes are relatives to humans, akin to a cousin, and not ancestors.
In your panicked state, you are hardly about to engage the shark in a polite discussion of whether the term "ape" properly denotes a paraphyletic group. You are angry and your arm is bleeding, and you are sick of this smug shark's condescending insults. "NOT AN APE," you scream at full volume in the face of the dazed animal.
The shark retreats back into the water, no doubt to complain about you on his blog. You feel slightly calmer.
>Try to imagine a world in which this shark was your friend
It's difficult to imagine befriending such a disagreeable shark. You suppose that if you had feigned interest in his philosophy instead of trying to poke him in the eye, he would probably have been less hostile, and would probably have explained to you in great detail why there should be no more sharks and why happy doesn't exist.
Maybe he would have cheered up a bit if you'd engaged him in conversation. Perhaps the two of you could have discussed possible escape routes together.
Then the two of you could have journeyed into the big, wide world together, in search of adventure, excitement, and the tastiest of sausages!
But sadly, he turned out to be an asshole and he bit you on the arm, and now you are alone in a sewer again.
Your arm hurts.
>Draw a map of everywhere you have seen so far!
You trace a rudimentary map on the floor with the blood from your wound. Let's see, now... you remember waking up in some kind of white room, and then going into a room with two more doors. You remember one of them was labelled "bug colony", and the other led into the sausage factory.
Then you went down a garbage chute into a trash compactor, escaped through a drain in the floor, and went through a pipe entrance marked with a number 2. You climbed a ladder in a room full of water, went down a corridor, and wound up where you are now.
"Do you mind not smearing your blood everywhere?" grumbles the shark from underwater. "The smell is heightening my feelings of deprivation, which is making me hungry."
>flip off the shark. also back away a bit from the edge.
You flip off the shark with both hands and shuffle backwards.
>Use your blood to write dark poetry about your suffering and then become a spooky vampire and suck on your bloody arm!
You attempt a few lines of self-pitying verse in the dirt.
Crimson blossoms - my wrist is in bloom. No light can pierce this tunnel's gloom. A blackest hell of vilest smells,
It's no good. You're writing bad poetry about suffering in your own blood, and you just can't take that seriously.
"What about 'This stinking pit / will be my tomb'?" suggests the shark from under the water.
But you ignore the shark because you are too busy being a spooky vampire in your imagination!
You suck on your cut a little. The familiar, metallic taste of your own blood soothes your nerves.
>No, become sparkly mormon vampire
Hell fucking yes.
You stand in the sunlight, a flawless marble statue encrusted with the most dazzlingly sparkling of diamonds. You stretch out your powerful vampire arms, inspecting them as they glisten, and flash a gleaming grin of brilliant white teeth, knowing that you are perfection incarnate.
You adored every second of Twilight and read each sequel on the day that it came out, and you don't care what anyone else thinks. Team Edward 4lyf!!!!! Motherfuckers.
>Tear a bit of your shirt and use it as a bandage.
You figure it's about time you did something to stop the bleeding. The shirt tears fairly easily, and you wind a strip of it around your arm.
>Try to clean the floor with your toothbrush.
You give the floor a vigorous scrub, but all you seem to be doing is smearing the blood around. Soon, the damaged bristles on the toothbrush are caked with blood and dust.
>Get up and try exploring more of the passageways.
You wander down the hallway beside the water, using the light from the mushrooms as a guide.
Pretty soon, you bump up against a cold, concrete wall. To your right you can see another mushroom and what could be the edge of a doorway, but it's over on the otherside of the water containing the hostile shark.
To your left, you can see a corridor with a relatively low ceiling, from which more mushrooms are growing.
>Bind the toothbrush to the femur; bash the glass open and take the squirt gun
You remove the elastic band from the pig femur and use it to bind the toothbrush to the femur, thereby freeing up one Inventory slot.
You go back to the squirt gun cabinet and strike it with the femur, showering the floor with glass shards.
You store your newly-acquired SQUIRT GUN in your Inventory.
Remember back in the 50s when they'd record like Elvis singing YOU AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A HOUND DOG and then they'd turn the record over and reverse it and it was all NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP NYERP and people were all like, "That is actually the voice of Satan coming from that song."
Shoot the SQUIRT GUN at the broken mushroom under the box to see what it's loaded with.
>Shoot the SQUIRT GUN at the broken mushroom under the box to see what it's loaded with.
You spray the severed fungus cap with the SQUIRT GUN, which you equip as your weapon.
It is loaded with WATER and shoots a moderately powerful jet. >Shoot your squirt gun at the grumpy shark, then run giggling down the passage with the low ceiling with gleeful abandon, taking no particular care to watch your step.
You blast the hat off the startled shark.
"LIVE ON IN DENIAL THEN, APE!" calls the shark after you. "YOU MAY HAVE HUMILIATED ME, BUT YOU WILL NEVER OVERCOME BENATAR'S ASYMMETRY!"
You turn down the low-ceilinged passage, and promptly crash into something painful and metallic in the dark, which knocks you to the ground.
Comments
Also, carefully and quietly, explore further down the passageway.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Follow the sound of the muttering voice (mad company is better than no company at all)
AND FIRE IN THE SKYYYYY
Ba-da-ba-da-ba-da!
>Grapple with the fact that the Derpy statue turned into a Nestlé® Wax Beetle™ thus disrupting your OTP. Curse the powers higher than you if you are not given a solid answer.
You are quite sure you have never been in possession of a "Derpy statue". Your Nestlé® Wax Beetle™ looks exactly as it always did.
You curse whatever power influenced you to ponder such stupid things.
>Also, carefully and quietly, explore further down the passageway.
Near the edge of the running water, you discover a side passageway. You can't see how far it goes.
>Follow the sound of the muttering voice (mad company is better than no company at all)
It appears to be coming from underwater.
An ominously pointed-looking fin breaks the surface.
>Upturn the mushroom and slide on it down the corridor with gleeful abandon, hoping not to sustain any serious injuries in the dark!
You hop onto the mushroom and slide down the corridor without a care in the world!
WHEEEEEEEE OH FUCK
You come to rest against a box-like object attached to the wall of the passage.
You're not hurt, but what dignity you have sustains a slight knock.
>Imagine yourself having a sweet rave party.
RANDOM IMAGINARY DANCE PARTY FOR NO REASON
>Brush your teeth
With this thing? You would admit you've been pretty gross today, but using that used toothbrush would definitely be going too far.
You saw what those bristles did to the fungus. You're not inflicting them upon your tender gums.
Also, make a crude slingshot out of the bone and one of the rubber bands in case you need a long range weapon.
The passage is long, and lined with more mushrooms.
>Also, make a crude slingshot out of the bone and one of the rubber bands in case you need a long range weapon.
The bone isn't really slingshot-shaped, but you wrap one of the bands around it anyway. With any luck, it should function as a basic catapult.
>examine the box-like object
It contains a squirt gun behind a glass pane.
A note over the top reads "BREAK GLASS IN CASE OF EMERGENCY".
>Ride the PARDAY BUS
Dis bus iz da place to BE!
>Pause and think about how the rave partygoers look oddly familiar.
You pause the game.
Some of those guys did look rather familiar, didn't they?
>make friends with mr. shark
You unpause the game and approach the water. "Good morning Mr. Shark!"
"No it isn't!" says the voice. "And if all you have to offer are empty social niceties I have no time for you."
>Chop up the Nestlé® Wax Beetle™ so you can munch on the little pieces and not have to worry about it becoming a Derpy statue!
You don't have anything in your Inventory that's sharp enough to cut through a plastic toy!
>Did somebody say imaginary floating giant guitar?
Looks like somebody said imaginary floating giant guitar!
A voice interrupts your reverie.
"Are you here to listen to my philosophy, or not?"
i get so angry sometimes i just punch plankton --Klinotaxis
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Inquire about the squirt gun
Inquire about the comment about laying eggs and atrocities
Also, offer the shark one of your items in exchange for help.
And compliment his hat. It is, after all, quite becoming
wrong thread
The shark glares at you. "What would you know of the abyss, ape? You are weak. You will never be the Übermensch. Nietzsche can't save you from the pain of being. Nothing can."
>ask the shark if it is an antinatalist shark
"Naturally," replies the shark. "Perhaps you saw my blog on the intercoral?"
>Ask the shark if it's a marxist
"Whoever heard of a Marxist shark?" the shark snaps. "I have no use for ape economic systems, nor utopian ape philosophers with their petty class struggles and delusions."
>Be beautiful. That or use moral relativism on the shark.
The shark's sophisticated hat and mustache are making you uncomfortably aware of your own unkempt appearance, but you're not sure what you can do about that in this sewer. Instead, you opine to the shark that different cultures have different values, and therefore the moral course of action in a given situation may vary across cultures.
"According to the values of my culture, we have a moral duty to bite off the legs of moral relativists," the shark replies.
>Examine various meters in the pause menu
You have a moderate amount of STAMINA due to your recent rest, but it won't last unless you can find something to eat soon.
Your IMAGINATION meter is unusually high.
Your FETTLE meter has seen better days. You should be especially careful if you're planning on doing anything dangerous.
Your somewhat high ANORAKIA meter reflects your tendencies to absorb trivia and indulge atypical interests.
You are indeed getting enough OXYGEN.
Your DIGNITY level is rather low.
>Inquire about the squirt gun
You are quite certain that this is the first time you have ever seen a shark shrug.
"What would I know?" he says. "That thing's been here longer than I have. It's nothing to do with me."
>Inquire about the comment about laying eggs and atrocities
"Life is meaningless and suffering is all there is," says the shark antinatalist. "We fear death but we can never avoid it. We gorge ourselves on fish and squid to delay the agony of deprivation, and we mistake this for happiness. To a rational mind such as mine, the conclusion is inescapable: all life is a blight upon this planet!" He slaps his fin upon the floor in a gesture that is evidently supposed to appear forceful.
"Nobody chooses to be born into this miserable reality," the shark continues. "Life is inflicted upon us. Sharks are breeding all the time, bringing sharks into this world and condemning them to suffer! That is an atrocity!"
>Try to remember what your chainsmoking Aunt Cloris used to say about sharks with top hats.
You concentrate hard and your aunt's sage words drift to the forefront of your memory: "No matter how snazzy his top hat might be, you must never, ever allow a shark to drive. They can't steer with those fins of theirs. And be especially wary if they have German accents and shout 'Gotcha'!"
>Also, offer the shark one of your items in exchange for help.
"What would I want with any of that crap, Dummkopf?" says the shark. "You want my help? I'll give you a freebie: give up. You will never mean anything or amount to anything. You are a pitiful ape and your so-called happiness will never exceed your suffering. As you have not even the meagre intelligence of shark-kind, the best hope for your species is to be culled or neutered, along with all the other stupid beasts."
>And compliment his hat. It is, after all, quite becoming
You attempt to improve the shark's demeanour by remarking upon his excellent choice of headgear. Unfortunately, he is by now so hostile that he misunderstands your intentions completely.
"You can't have it!" he snarls.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Ask him where the sewers go and if there's a way out.
Contemplate breaking the glass with your bone and grabbing the squirt gun.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
You pose the shark the riddle:
"If all life is a meaningless blight upon this planet, then why is it so important that you keep your hat?"
"A childish attempt to obfuscate the issue," snaps the shark. "And one which certainly won't change the reality of your bleak existence, however much in denial you might be. Of course, this hat doesn't really mean anything. But I am not a wholly rational being, I will admit, or else I wouldn't have to endure the agonies of day to day living. This is my hat. I don't have many possessions, and I refuse to let you deprive me of this one."
>Ask his opinion on Dasein.
"I have no strong opinion on anthropocentric ape philosophers and their bizarre metaphysics," replies the shark, folding his fins. "I don't see that Heidegger's project concerns me."
>Ask him where the sewers go and if there's a way out.
The shark gives an irritable shrug.
"If I knew a way out of here, why would I be talking to you from a pool of ape faeces? I'd leave if I could."
>Contemplate breaking the glass with your bone and grabbing the squirt gun.
Yeah, you reckon you could totally do that. You're lost in a sewer. That definitely counts as an emergency.
Only problem is, you couldn't take the gun with you at the moment, since all the slots in your inventory are full.
>Apologize for your HILARIOUS ANTICS.
The shark still looks pretty pissed, so you try to calm him down. Alas, your awkward attempt at an apology meets with a stony silence.
>Wonder if you were deluding yourself about the flavours of truth and beauty being actual things. Try to recollect something about this from your education.
You recall that "truth" and "beauty" are merely old names for the flavours of top quarks and bottom quarks, and are no longer in use.
"Take the universe and grind it down to the finest powder and sieve it through the finest sieve and then show me one atom of truth, one molecule of beauty." - Haim Harari
That thing on your pause menu can't possibly have anything to do with actual quarks inside you, though, whatever its actual purpose might be. If you were made of mostly heavy quarks, you figure you'd probably have decayed by now, and you would definitely have noticed something like that happening.
>Post-apology, introduce yourself and inquire about his name.
You attempt to break the uncomfortable silence by introducing yourself. "Hi," you say. "My name's Zestpoole. What's yours?"
"I don't have a name," says the shark. "Nor do I care about yours, because I am a shark. And if you think your miserable excuse for an apology can even slightly make amends for the offence you have caused me today you are sorely mistaken."
>Poke the shark's eyes and take his lunch money
This is a really mean thing to do! But evidently this tiresome pessimist brings out the worst in you. You lunge forwards, aiming your right index finger at the shark's exposed left eye.
The shark bites down on your arm. The pain is excruciating, and your fettle takes a severe hit.
Worse still, the shark rolls his eyes back into his head, revealing their blank, glassy whites, and begins to forcefully pull you towards the water.
With your free hand, give him a good bonking in the eye with your bone (like what the nature specials always say to do when being attacked by a shark)
Try to imagine a world in which this shark was your friend
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
>Scream "OH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU-"
OH
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU
>Punch the shark in the nose with your other arm to establish superiority.
You sock the shark on the snout with your left hand, introducing its sensitive electroreceptors to some entirely necessary suffering.
The shark lets go of your other arm. It's bruised and bleeding, but thankfully not broken.
>With your free hand, give him a good bonking in the eye with your bone (like what the nature specials always say to do when being attacked by a shark)
You swing the butt of your PIG FEMUR SLINGSHOT into the shark's exposed eye. The shark recoils, stunned.
>While being attacked, point out to the shark that apes are relatives to humans, akin to a cousin, and not ancestors.
In your panicked state, you are hardly about to engage the shark in a polite discussion of whether the term "ape" properly denotes a paraphyletic group. You are angry and your arm is bleeding, and you are sick of this smug shark's condescending insults. "NOT AN APE," you scream at full volume in the face of the dazed animal.
The shark retreats back into the water, no doubt to complain about you on his blog. You feel slightly calmer.
>Try to imagine a world in which this shark was your friend
It's difficult to imagine befriending such a disagreeable shark. You suppose that if you had feigned interest in his philosophy instead of trying to poke him in the eye, he would probably have been less hostile, and would probably have explained to you in great detail why there should be no more sharks and why happy doesn't exist.
Maybe he would have cheered up a bit if you'd engaged him in conversation. Perhaps the two of you could have discussed possible escape routes together.
Then the two of you could have journeyed into the big, wide world together, in search of adventure, excitement, and the tastiest of sausages!
But sadly, he turned out to be an asshole and he bit you on the arm, and now you are alone in a sewer again.
Your arm hurts.
>Draw a map of everywhere you have seen so far!
You trace a rudimentary map on the floor with the blood from your wound. Let's see, now... you remember waking up in some kind of white room, and then going into a room with two more doors. You remember one of them was labelled "bug colony", and the other led into the sausage factory.
Then you went down a garbage chute into a trash compactor, escaped through a drain in the floor, and went through a pipe entrance marked with a number 2. You climbed a ladder in a room full of water, went down a corridor, and wound up where you are now.
"Do you mind not smearing your blood everywhere?" grumbles the shark from underwater. "The smell is heightening my feelings of deprivation, which is making me hungry."
Try to clean the floor with your toothbrush.
Get up and try exploring more of the passageways.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
You flip off the shark with both hands and shuffle backwards.
>Use your blood to write dark poetry about your suffering and then become a spooky vampire and suck on your bloody arm!
You attempt a few lines of self-pitying verse in the dirt.
Crimson blossoms -
my wrist is in bloom.
No light can pierce
this tunnel's gloom.
A blackest hell
of vilest smells,
It's no good. You're writing bad poetry about suffering in your own blood, and you just can't take that seriously.
"What about 'This stinking pit / will be my tomb'?" suggests the shark from under the water.
But you ignore the shark because you are too busy being a spooky vampire in your imagination!
You suck on your cut a little. The familiar, metallic taste of your own blood soothes your nerves.
>No, become sparkly mormon vampire
Hell fucking yes.
You stand in the sunlight, a flawless marble statue encrusted with the most dazzlingly sparkling of diamonds. You stretch out your powerful vampire arms, inspecting them as they glisten, and flash a gleaming grin of brilliant white teeth, knowing that you are perfection incarnate.
You adored every second of Twilight and read each sequel on the day that it came out, and you don't care what anyone else thinks. Team Edward 4lyf!!!!! Motherfuckers.
>Tear a bit of your shirt and use it as a bandage.
You figure it's about time you did something to stop the bleeding. The shirt tears fairly easily, and you wind a strip of it around your arm.
>Try to clean the floor with your toothbrush.
You give the floor a vigorous scrub, but all you seem to be doing is smearing the blood around. Soon, the damaged bristles on the toothbrush are caked with blood and dust.
>Get up and try exploring more of the passageways.
You wander down the hallway beside the water, using the light from the mushrooms as a guide.
Pretty soon, you bump up against a cold, concrete wall. To your right you can see another mushroom and what could be the edge of a doorway, but it's over on the otherside of the water containing the hostile shark.
To your left, you can see a corridor with a relatively low ceiling, from which more mushrooms are growing.
>Bind the toothbrush to the femur; bash the glass open and take the squirt gun
You remove the elastic band from the pig femur and use it to bind the toothbrush to the femur, thereby freeing up one Inventory slot.
You go back to the squirt gun cabinet and strike it with the femur, showering the floor with glass shards.
You store your newly-acquired SQUIRT GUN in your Inventory.
You spray the severed fungus cap with the SQUIRT GUN, which you equip as your weapon.
It is loaded with WATER and shoots a moderately powerful jet.
>Shoot your squirt gun at the grumpy shark, then run giggling down the passage with the low ceiling with gleeful abandon, taking no particular care to watch your step.
You blast the hat off the startled shark.
"LIVE ON IN DENIAL THEN, APE!" calls the shark after you. "YOU MAY HAVE HUMILIATED ME, BUT YOU WILL NEVER OVERCOME BENATAR'S ASYMMETRY!"
You turn down the low-ceilinged passage, and promptly crash into something painful and metallic in the dark, which knocks you to the ground.