Lurker > HotLap

Atlanta
Scrubs
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Polycosm posted...

I fucking forgot about this.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Touch posted...

I fuckin loved Blitzball

Brother early game MVP

Don't you disrespect Ropp like that.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Fuck, something came up at work that I need to go in early for. Usually I'm cool with phoning it in on Fridays son I can stay up late to update but I can't really do that this time. I'll have an update by the end of the weekend for sure though.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

RIP New Girl

Poor Winnie the Bish.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I wish I had 2,000 feet! So that I could put 500 of them IN EACH OF YOUR ASSES!
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Hoping to finish the update tomorrow night.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

SBAllen paid off Burgess using lead moderator funds.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Brooklyn Nine Nine
New Girl
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Scrubs
The Good Place
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Atlanta
Silicon Valley
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

SocialistGamer posted...

Peter_Griffin33 posted...

You cant even fucking do it right.

How did I get it wrong?

You're not sweating even in your birthday suit.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Parappa09 posted...

HotLap posted...

My handsome QB doesn't have many years left.

i know ;_; if i do make my way to foxborough, you'll have to join since i have no one to go with

i'm also kinda gutted about jimmy g

I'm always down to go to a Pats game.

Jimmy was the only one who could rival Tom's looks. Jimmy's fucking everything that moves in San Francisco.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Anarchy_Juiblex posted...

HotLap posted...

We have a lot of smart people in here and a few misguided people.

Anarchy_Juiblex posted...

I generally prefer no dipping however, blue cheese on a steak is fucking amazing.

And here we have Satan himself.

The funk of the blue cheese works really well with beef, almost gives the steak a dry aged taste.

Alright I'll admit I'm intrigued. You got a specific recipe you like?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

We have a lot of smart people in here and a few misguided people.

Anarchy_Juiblex posted...

I generally prefer no dipping however, blue cheese on a steak is fucking amazing.

And here we have Satan himself.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

If Jesus had a Lickitung he would have never become the savior. Lickitung would have been too busy making Jesus see his dad.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I'll fucking die on this hill. The city of Buffalo made a great start but ultimately got it wrong.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Kircheis posted...

I like the long updates tbh. I feel like the longer updates help distinguish it from most other CYOAs, and it never really felt like it was dragging on to me.

WaterLink posted...

Nah the long updates are fine and more rewarding. Keep doing your thing man

Alright cool, glad the long updates are well received. I'm not sure shortening them is a promise I could keep anyways.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Frisky Dingo
It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Get ready to get sad.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

New Girl
The Good Place
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

You place the last couch down in the living room. "That oughta do it."
"Amazing!" Mason claps you on the shoulder as Kendra collapses onto the couch. "We can't thank you enough."
"You won't have to," you remind him. "Go shower up and we can be on our way."
"Oh," Mason frowns. "About that... I sort of... don't have a yacht."
"Say what now?"
"I maaaaaay have made it up so you'd help us move," Mason winces.
"Aww, that's not cool, man."
"I know, and I'm sorry. It's just that your superhuman strength made this move go five times as fast."
"No, I understand why you did it, Mason," you begin. "Personally, I forgive you, but I'm afraid you're going to pull these kind of shenanigans on the wrong person someday. Not everyone is as forgiving as I am." You need to teach these kids a lesson.

At that moment, Tim is walking by you towards the stairs carrying a lamp for his bedroom. You grab Tim by the shoulder and sink your teeth into his neck. Your teeth easily penetrate Tim's skin and you can feel his blood rush into your mouth. Tim's lamp shatters on the floor as he drops it in horror. You let Tim go as you swallow his blood and dab in the center of the room.
"YO WHAT THE FUCK, SLIM?!" Mason bellows.
Kendra sits up from the couch and cries, "Oh my god, what do we do?"
"You honor your agreements from now on," you reply, wiping Tim's blood from your chin. "Because look what happens. Tim's been bit. We don't know how that will resolve, now do we?"
Tim is hyperventilating, desperately fanning his bite wound with his hand.
"How do we fix him?!" Mason shouts to you desperately.
"I don't know. That was my first bite," you shrug, resting your hand on Tim's back. "I'm glad you were my first bite, Tim. You've got excellent tasting blood."
Mason slaps your arm off Tim's back and shoves you away. "Get the fuck out of here, you psychopath!"
You furrow your brow. "Huff my butt, Mason. You were the one who said two favors each, remember? In the Jamba Juice on Route 18? I had the Citrus Kick. Tim dabbed."
"Yes, I remember!" Mason screams.
"Okay, just checking. Because it seems like you forgot about the second favor."
"I didn't forget!" Mason argues. "But helping someone move and borrowing a yacht are two totally disproportionate favors!"
"Well then ask for a new favor then. Don't agree to the favor you can't provide. I didn't want to bite Tim, but I had to. I didn't want to dab on you and tell you to huff my butt," you say as you look back to Tim gushing blood onto the floor. "I hope he doesn't die."
"Fuck you, Slim!"
"Huff my butt, Mason."
You hear Kendra let out a shrill cry as she rushes from the kitchen and plants a knife into your arm.
"Huh," you say amused. "That's pretty wild. I don't even feel that. Check it out, Tim. Kendra just stabbed me," you say before dabbing with a knife in your arm.
"Stop dabbing and just get out of here!" Mason begs.
Kendra, immediately giving up on her attack, has now dialed 911 and is talking to the operator.
"I'm gonna jot down my number, let me know how Tim makes out," you announce as you grab a pen and pad of sticky notes off one of the desks you carried in. You also write "Keep your promises!" as a nice little reminder.

You get back into your car and text Mills that you'll be waiting about a block away from the marina until sunset. As the skies spill sheets of Citrus Kick and Tim's blood across the horizon, you see Carrie's car approaching, but Carrie isn't behind the wheel. Jess is driving, Mills is in the passenger seat, and there's someone else in back seat. Someone you've never seen before.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

You hesitate for a second, remembering Carrie taking the phone out of your hands before you could take your own selfie. She said people would find you disturbing. You look into Tim's smiling blue eyes. These people certainly don't find you disturbing. They want your picture enough to pay for your juice. "Sure! Can I dab in the picture? Dabbing hasn't gone out of style since I've been dead has it?"
"Dabbing has been dead for a long, long time, Slim," Mason pats you on the shoulder.
"I guess I'm the best person to do it then," you drop a mean dab on the youth.

Mason takes the picture of the four of you. You notice Tim also dabbing in the background of Mason's selfie. "Great dab, Tim."
"Hashtag Jamba Juice legend," Mason says aloud as he types.
"Seriously, I have NO idea who that guy is," the cashier calls out from behind the counter.
"That's exactly what you're being paid to say," Kendra smirks.
"You're literally just hanging out with a corpse," the cashier says.
"He's not wrong," you tell the group.
"Well if you're a zombie, prove it. Go lift a car outside," instructs Mason.
"How will that prove I'm a zombie?" you ask.
Mason replies, "Aren't zombies supposed to have like super human strength? That's why they can tear people limb from limb."
You mind drifts to the events from earlier today. "Well, I did lazily flop a hammer at an old m-..." you stop yourself before revealing you're a murderer to your new friends. Mason and Kendra would understand if you explained the situation, but Tim would be devastated. "-... at an old watermelon and the thing just exploded. Bled all over the ground."
"Well let's go see what you got," Mason rises from his seat.

The four of you are standing around your car in the parking lot. "Here goes nothing," you say as you squat and place your hands underneath the front of your car. As you slowly force your legs back into their upright position, you expect to feel some sort of strain on your arms. However, much to your surprise, the car is rising with you in unison.
"Oh my god!" Kendra shouts, pointing her phone in your direction.
"Holy fuck he's actually a zombie!" Mason screams.
As you slowly bring your arms up over your head, the front of your car is now eight feet off the ground. "Tim, check it out! Look Tim!"
Tim's mouth is wide open, but smiling ear to ear.

As you lower your car back to the pavement, Mason tells you, "Well this will make our second favor a lot easier. We're all sweaty because we've been moving into a new apartment all day. We just came here to cool off a bit."
"So you want me to help you finish moving into your new place?" you confirm.
"You got it," Mason nods. "That shouldn't take too long seeing as you can lift a car."
"And what about what I get in return?"
"Name it," Mason replies.
You take a deep breath. "I need to borrow a yacht."
Kendra and Tim exchange nervous glances, but Mason smiles. "Well it's your lucky day - I'm a spoiled trust fund kid. My dad's got a yacht."
"Really? In the marina?" you ask.
"Not this local marina, it's about an hour away," he says. "He lets me take it out a couple times a year. After the move, let me shower and we can head over if you want."
"Okay!" you cheer. Everything's falling into place for Slim.

You get into your car and follow Mason, Kendra, and Tim back to their old apartment where an empty moving truck is sitting outside. You load in a few beds, a couple dressers, multiple desks, televisions, and couches. You get back into your car, follow the college students to their new place, and unload it all.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

You read over the menu before walking up to the counter.
"How can I help you today?" the cashier asks nervously.
"I'll take a medium Citrus Kick," you request.
"Coming right up," he says as he gets to work.
You watch the cashier collect citrus after citrus to make your juice blend. "Wow, my day's about the get a whole lot brighter," you giggle excitedly. "I should have brought my sunglasses."
"That's like exactly what it says on our website," the juice man says. "Did you just read our website so you could come in here and say that?"
"No sir," you deny the accusation. "But whoever wrote that web blurb was spot on."
Convinced you're being overly sarcastic, the cashier says, "Whatever man." He pops the top onto your juice and slides it towards you. "That'll be $5.39."
"Uuuggghh," you tap your back pocket as you remember one of the unfortunate consequences of being dead for six weeks. "I don't have any money."
"Well I guess you don't need sunglasses after all," the cashier pulls the juice away from you.
"Can't I just have it?" you plead. "I've only been alive for like twelve hours now. I have a job, but I haven't gotten paid yet... Come to think of it I don't think I'll ever get paid."
The cashier shrugs. "That sucks, man. But I don't get paid either if I give out juice for free."
One of the college kids stands up and joins you at the counter. "Hey, it's fine. I'll cover it," putting his debit card onto the counter. "For a favor."
Hoping to piggyback doing a favor for this sweaty boy into another yacht related favor for yourself, you reply, "I will do you a favor in exchange for this favor only if you promise to do me another favor afterwards. I would be open to compensating your second favor with an additional favor of my own."
The guy nods. "Ok. So it's two favors each then. I'm Mason."

You introduce yourself and join Mason and his two friends at his table. You take a sip of your Citrus Kick. "Oh my," you say, gleefully sucking some more down. "Mmm! This is the most amazing thing I've ever had in my life."
"It's just juice, dude," Mason tells you.
"It's not just juice. It's JAMBA Juice."
"Okay," Mason sighs. "You sure you're not part of some strange marketing team for Jamba Juice? Because you're quoting lines right from the website and getting really horny about citrus."
"Nope, I'm just a dead guy who is horny about most things nowadays," you confirm.
"This is Kendra and that's Tim," Mason gestures to his friends.
"Hi," Kendra gives you a wave.
Tim just stares at you.
Sensing that your innate desire to make Tim love you isn't going to plan, Mason puts your mind at ease by explaining, "Tim's a mute."
"Oh, I see." You use sign language to say, "Nice to meet you, Tim."
Tim offers no reply.
"Does he not know sign language?" you ask Mason.
"No, he does," he replies. "He's just a mute in every language."

"So what's your first favor?" you ask the group.
"Even though you keep saying you're not part of a viral marketing campaign, we kinda don't believe you," Kendra says. "So can we get a selfie? I've never had my picture taken with someone famous before and you seem like you're going to be famous."
"That's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me, Kendra!" you say. "I'd hug you, but my stench almost made the last college girl I hugged throw up."
"...Is that a yes, then?" Mason asks, taking out his cell phone.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Carrie's head snaps towards you. "I just got a text from my aunt. Are you liking the posts people posted about your death on Facebook?"
"No, I'm not liking them," you smile. "I'm loving them."
"Get over here!" she demands.
Hurray! You're back in the house!

Carrie scolds you as she closes the door behind you. "You can't like your own rest in peace posts on Facebook. People will be weirded out getting notifications from a dead guy. They'll probably think I've gone crazy and have logged into your account or something."
You open the camera up and hold your arm out. "No problem, I'll just post a selfie so they know it's me."
Carrie smacks your arm down and snatches the phone before you can snap the picture. "Absolutely not!"
"Why not?" you ask.
You can see her swiping and tapping on your phone. "It's... disturbing. It wouldn't be right."
"Oh okay."
She hands you the phone back. "There. I deleted the Facebook app."
"I can just reinstall it," you say.
"Yeah, well... don't," she commands. "I need you to leave again now."
"Can I get my car keys?" you ask.
"What do you need a car for?" Jess calls out, worried about losing her transportation.
"Well I have nothing to do for a while," you shrug. "Thought I might go try the Jamba Juice."
"There's a Jamba Juice around here?" Carrie asks.
"Yeah, on Route 18," Mills and Jess say in unison.
"Fine, whatever you want," Carrie says quickly. "Jess give him the keys."
Jess frowns and looks at the keys on the counter.
"Just for today," you reassure her.
"Fine," she concedes, tossing you the keys to your former whip.
You snatch them out of the air. "Nice! You guys want anything?"
Jess and Mills look like their about to place their orders when Carrie steps in front of you and says, "No! Please, you have to go."
"Alright, next time!" you barrel through the front door excited, but not forgetting to kiss your fingers and press the door again on your way to the car.

You hop into the driver's seat and see some of Jess's clothes in the backseat. There are some empty coffee and smoothie cups on the floor behind the passenger seat. There's also an empty bottle of honey peeking out from under your seat, but you did that. Looks like Jess hasn't found it under all her trash yet. Carrie is parked behind you, but you've danced this dance before when you were alive. You adjust the seat to put your feet by the pedals, then move the mirror to look yourself square in the eyes. "It's wheelman time," you say, channeling your inner Fast and Furious hero. You put the car in reverse and move around Carrie's car onto the front lawn, then peel out into the street, sending chunks of soil and grass flying at the house. Oops. You suppose you don't have the magic touch anymore. Maybe you never did. You never even had your car.

You have a bit of a heavy foot to start out, but for the most part, driving comes back to you easily. You turn into the Jamba Juice parking lot and head inside. There's only a couple employees and a few sweaty looking college kids in there, but you instantly become the center of attention. "Sorry about the smell," you announce, wanting to rip the band-aid off fast. "I've been dead for a while."
"Are you part of some viral marketing campaign?" one of the college kids asks you.
"I don't think it's viral," you reply. "I haven't bitten anyone yet though, so I suppose it could be."
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

B) Lay in the garden like a tipped over bird fountain and read Facebook eulogies until nightfall.
C) Ask for your car keys so you can go to the Jamba Juice on Route 18.

You put two fingers to your lips and then press them against your front door. That could have been the last time you'll ever be in your house. Hopefully your new self will be enough for Carrie someday, but not today. Although, just because she doesn't want you inside doesn't mean you can't lay down in the garden until Mills is ready to go. You take a couple steps to the left of the front door and see the flower garden in disarray. All the tulips are dead and the pansies are on their way out. "These look like they haven't been watered in weeks," you mutter. Looking at the overgrown lawn, you suppose it makes sense that the garden has fallen to the wayside as well. You drop to your hands and knees and crawl on top of the dead flowers before toppling over onto your back.

You take out your phone and open up Facebook. Let's see what kind of sad, nice things people said about you after you brought your own life to an abrupt end. You spot a post from Carrie's Aunt Sydney. She lives several states away, but whenever she came to visit she always made such amazing pulled pork. "Kevin was taken from us too soon, but I suppose heaven couldn't wait to have such a wonderful angel. Hope there's lots of pulled pork up there for you. Love you, Kev."
Oh! What a nice message! You try to remember if heaven had a lot of delicious pulled pork or not. Ah, it probably did. You notice a lot of crying emojis attached to Sydney's post. This post doesn't make you want to cry at all, it makes you want pulled pork. You love pulled pork. And Aunt Sydney, of course. You decide to reward Aunt Sydney's nice message with the emoji it deserves - a great, big heart.

"I can't believe Kevin's gone," Rachel Henner writes. "I didn't know he was struggling, I wish he would have said something. I would have done anything I could have to help. As a society we have to be more accepting of people struggling with depression or mental illness and make it easier to seek help. I'll miss you every day, Kevin!"
Wow. Your Facebook friends are killing it with the amazing eulogy posts. They're two for two now. And to think, you haven't seen Rachel Henner since high school! Even when you did talk, she didn't seem very friendly. That's all water under the bridge now that you know her asking, "Can I copy your trig homework?" every day was her way of saying, "You are a very close friend and I'm here for you." There's only one thing missing from this post. Luckily, it's something you can provide. You hold down that heart button.

You decide to check out if Jason Burnett made a post about you. After a few minutes of scrolling it doesn't seem that he did. Oh Jason, that old so-and-so! That's alright though, you said your goodbyes to Jason in person. Not everyone gets to say goodbye to a dear friend by having the dearly departed present them with a murder weapon then steal their ham sandwich. You're glad you could give that to Jason. Plus, while you were scrolling to find Jason's post, you found some real gems along the way. Like this one from Chris Brooks who wrote, "RIP Kevin." Simple and straight to the point. You literally have no idea who Chris Brooks is or why he's on your friends list, but you truly appreciate the time he took to write those kind words. Enjoy your heart, Chris.

Just then the front door opens again and Carrie's head peeks out. "Kevin?" she calls out in a loud whisper.
You can hear Jess say something you can't quite make out from inside.
You see Carrie roll her eyes as she tries again, "Slim?"
"Yo!" you holler from the mulch.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

My dad slaps my ass thinking it's my mom's all the time.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Atlanta
Silicon Valley
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Ruvan22 posted...

TC, I really like your writing style :)

Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying the story!

I'm writing the update now, but it's definitely looking like another two-part update. Just curious, are you guys okay with the length of the updates? I try to pack as much as I can into each excerpt, but if people aren't feeling it I can try to shorten them. Just know that if I shorten the posts, the amount of time between updates will likely stay the same.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

JTilly posted...

He was chill

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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Home Movies
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Boy Meets World
Frisky Dingo
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Scrubs
The Good Place
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Atlanta
Silicon Valley
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Scrubs
The Good Place
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

voldothegr8 posted...

Not sure myself, dude is a scumbag. Which is sad because he's pretty funny.

He's definitely talented as a comedic actor, but his stand up is some of the worst trash I've ever seen. Ron Funches did five minutes on stage before TJ came out, and I laughed more in those five minutes than the entire hour TJ was on stage pouring water on himself and dancing to the Duck Tales theme song.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

I definitely would for the right salary.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Brooklyn Nine Nine
New Girl

Endangered:
Beavis and Butt-Head
BoJack Horseman
Boy Meets World
Cory In The House
Daria
Family Matters
Full House
How I Met Your Mother
Leave it to Beaver
The Drew Carey Show
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Bumping so it doesn't purge before tomorrow.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Scrubs
The Good Place
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

wow so lonely
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Atlanta
Silicon Valley
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Parappa09 posted...

@HotLap last time i remember you were still in boston so its good to see youre still around there

especially for when i want to see a pats game at foxborough while brady is still qb

I'd like to go to the west coast at some point, but I'll be here for at least a few more years.

Ya better come sooner rather than later. My handsome QB doesn't have many years left.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

BoJack Horseman
New Girl
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Peter_Griffin33 posted...

Touch posted...

But is your butthole a bloody mess

Its sore from the stretching but ill live

Aaah the good hurt.
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.

Did you just bump yourself getting roasted after begging everyone to stop posting so you could lock the topic?
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You don't have to put my thighs in the microwave.