Current Events > No Future: An adventure in science fiction with a little audience participation

(+) Yeah! (+)

It was Brillig, and to be perfectly honest, that was a fairly shitty neologism to describe the early afternoon. So, scratch that. It was somewhere between lunch and dinner. Perhaps before afternoon tea, perhaps not. There were no slithy toves. The wabe was unsullied by vermin. Absolutely pristine and untouched by gimbling and gyring. So please, if youre worried about the state of the wabe, just put it out of your mind.

Actually, you know what? Lets start over. To be honest, that was a bit pretentious and I didnt like where it was going. There may be a jabberwock level beastie later, there may not be. (Guaranteed, it wont be a wee sleekit cowrin timrous beastie, if there is).

It was early afternoon on the homestead. Livestock was groomed, slopped, trimmed and generally looked after. Crops were all growing quietly and almost imperceptibly in their fields and any obvious varmints were dealt with appropriately. Seriously, those freaking toves.

All the chores were done, and it was time to do something fun. I nipped into the house, where mine dear mater was in the kitchen doing appropriately matronly and domestic things. The family robot, Rho-Chi-IV was hunched over the sink like an exceedingly skinny metallic vulture, arthritically peeling potatoes with its Kitchen Hand attachment. Shirk, shirk, shirk its bladed digits announced to the world unbidden, a passive aggressive declaration of industry to an uncaring world. The irritating machine had been accidentally introduced to Marxist-Leninist political theory the year before (I denied any involvement, or that I had attempted to get it to do my ancient Earth history homework.

Mother dear, I asked. I have completed all my chores. The livestock is appropriately cared for, those dreadful toves have gyred their last and the crops are doing their thing.

Well done, son of mine, my dear mother gushed. You truly are a good boy!

I am indeed, mummy! I enthused, enthusiastically. I was wondering, since I have performed my filial duties exceptionally, may I ...

Audience participation:

A) Pick up some power converters from Tooshie station
B) Go into town and eat some sandwiches with my girlfriend at Sub Rosas sandwich bar
C) Visit the 5D amusement arcade
D) Hang out with my exceedingly cool friends
E) Other, please specify


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B+C

@Eevee-Trainer we got ourselves a CYOA. It you'd do the honours and tag everyone I'd be grateful
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Sadly I only know of a couple of people offhand that tend to want to be @'ed for these

@Kircheis @fire_bolt

Maybe @nikko004 & @HotLap since they write some CYOAs too? And maybe @TheGreatNoodles , it has an interesting vibe to it that he might like, I think.

Anyhow, as for my vote: B+C

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I vote B+C also.
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B+C it is.

This post is also a tag for myself for when I sober up tomorrow and need to remember I made this topic.

Never fear, CE. I have plans. Plans that I have written down like a particularly alcoholic rendition of Memento. Next/this month, however, I shall be kicking the habit.

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Bump
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Eevee-Trainer posted...

, it has an interesting vibe to it that he might like, I think.

It most certainly does!

I vote D!
Bring in the exceedingly cool friends! If theyre not you know... too busy being cool... without me.

Edit: Oops vote was already won (or lost depending on ones view!). XD
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Thanks for the bump. Sorry for the delay, been looking after a sick kid all day

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Eevee-Trainer posted...

Maybe nikko004 & HotLap since they write some CYOAs too?

very correct, i always enjoy any CYOAs on gamefaqs
tagging this, looking forward to seeing where this goes :>

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I am indeed, mummy! I enthused, enthusiastically. I was wondering, since I have performed my filial duties exceptionally, may I toddle into town and scoff down some scrumptious sandwiches with my beloved?

But apple of my eye, she said. I was going to cook your favourite!

Oh no! I exclaimed. Not chicken nodules!

Chicken nodules indeed, dear. She confimed.

I sighed. I suppose this is a sacrifice I shall have to make. Dont wait up, mummy dear, I shall be going to the amusement arcade afterwards.

You know I worry about you when you are out late, mother reprimanded. Her stern tone gave away to her usual indulgence of my whims. Of course! Dont stay out *too* late, of course. Thats when the bad boys are out, and you know they are always mean to you.

Never fear, Mum, for protection I shall take my

A) Katana
B) Blaster pistol
C) Shaolin spade
D) Magic hubcap
E) Other

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A

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D
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A
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A

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Never fear, Mum, for protection I shall take my Katana!

Please be careful with it, she warned. You know doctor Tuppingbottom said he wasnt going to sew any more of your fingers back on, after last time.

Of course mumsy, I beamed. I am always careful! Now, I must bid you adieu in favour of delicious submarine sandwiches!

With that, I grabbed my katana from the umbrella stand and breezed out the door (after of course receiving the requisite goodbye kiss). I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand and skipped down the garden path. I stopped briefly to check to see whether the latest issues of Total Pins or Pins Monthly were burning a hole in the letter box, but alas it was not to be.

Slightly miffed, but wanting to dis- my gruntled state, I shrugged my shoulders and continued on my way. A postal aerostat buzzed above the street, fuelling my hopes that my pin fix would be fulfilled. A school of tinier delivery drones flitted their way around the Aerostat or were attached limpetlike to its silvery sides, like remoras around a shark.

I flipped open my mobile telephone and sent a text message to my girlfriend.

Are you in the mood for some sandwiches? Said message inquired.

Her reply was as short and sweet as she was. Yup.

Excellent, see you there soon.

Owing to an unfortunate accident involving the parson, my electrically powered velocipede was being repaired, so I would be forced to go by Shanks pony. If I walked along the road, it would take some time. Alternately, I could cut through the woods and get there in half the time. The woods were almost completely safe.

I wonder what I should do, I asked myself. I think I shall...

A) Cut through the woods
B) Stick to the road
C) Wander blindly and have faith that my feet knew which way to go
D) Other

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A
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Bump for more - will go with whatever has the most votes in the morning.

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D jerk it with weegee

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c

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C
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C

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C) Wander blindly and have faith that my feet knew

Octopuses had, or so I have read, essentially mini-brains that controlled their legs and would operate independently of their main brain thingummy. I also once had an uncle who was in a terrible car accident and had his brain transplanted into his foot. Or at least, thats what he told me. He was a very clever man, but eccentric. He would always wear a leather flat cap and leather pants. He was not actually my real uncle but was a very good friend of my parents, so I called him uncle as is tradition.

Perhaps my brain was also in my feet. At the very least my legs had a mind of their own and would set their own peculiar itineraries when I wandered. So, I wandered.

Down well-paved streets I dawdled. Past kempt gardens and brightly painted houses I meandered. I made my peripatetic way through thoroughly urbane suburbia until there was an almost imperceptible transition. Gradually, empty, overgrown lots filled with meagre scatterings of rubble and debris replaced the houses. Finally, nothing but cracked roadways and the occasional half-tumbled wall remained, the rotting skeleton of the corpse of a suburb. This was once ground zero of an ontology bomb. I hummed a merry tune and salivated at the thought of the submarine sandwich that awaited me.

It was when I heard the skitter of gravel behind me that I remembered why I seldom let my feet lead me to this part of town. In vain, I hoped it was just a scorpion rat or a frou frou fox. Unfortunately, when I turned around I wasnt met by a stabby chitinous tail or a canine dressed like an 18th century dandy. Instead, as I feared, four loutish fellows slouched out from their hiding place in the lee of a wall.

It was none other than the Boojum Boys, so called because they were very dangerous and extremely snarky.

Whos that there then, ay? Asked Boots, mockingly.

Why, I do believe its our old chum, said Baker.

Do you think hes brought us a gift? Asked Beaver.

You know, I think he may have, at that! Declared Bellman.

Oh dear, I thought to myself. Should I

A) Run
B) Talk my way out of things
C) Fight!
D) Give them the money I was saving for submarine sandwiches
E) Other

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C
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C again
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C

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Boojum Boys, I said, girding my loins. You have stolen my lunch, brunch, dinner and pocket money for the last time. I will tolerate your predations upon my person for the last time.

Ooh-er! Exclaimed Beaver. Hes grown some claws, gents!

Wed better trim them then, added Boots.

For sure, agreed Bellman. It would be a shame for him to scratch up his poor mums curtains!

You leave my mum out of this! I cried.

It would be the first time anyones left anything out of your mum! Retorted Baker. Fighting words in anyones language.

I pulled my trusty katana from its sheath with a schwing and adopted an appropriate sword-waving stance. The words of my fencing instructor echoed in my mind:
For Christs sake, just dont cut any more of your fingers off... A pearl of wisdom indeed.

In a move that was surely rehearsed, in unison the barbarous quartet pulled flick knives from about their persons and opened them with a chorus of snick. Boots and Beaver slowly approached me from the front, while Bellman and Baker tried to circle around. They were like a pack of bipedal, hairless and particularly snarky hyenas.

This will hurt you more than it will hurt me, I told them. Then, because my dear mum raised me to be honest. Probably.

In response Beaver lunged forward with a slash of his blade. I attempted to hop backward out of range and tripped. As I fell, I accidentally caught Bellman with the sharp bit of my katana. Right in the neck.

The crunch as I landed on my backside informed me that my mobile telephone had taken the brunt of my landing.

Beaver, Baker and Boots watched as their partner in crime crumpled to his knees, gurgling wetly as his white t-shirt became stained a particular shade of crimson. As a veteran of many accidents with sharp objects, I was relatively unfazed by this unfortunate turn of events and regained my footing.

After some moments, Bellman breathed his last soggy breath and crumpled.

Sorry lads, I apologised. This sort of thing always seems to happen.

My apology was not enough, and Beaver howled wordlessly, an animalistic sound one does not normally hear being produced by a human throat. He charged, wildly slashing with his knife. Calling upon my extensive training, I attempted to warn him off by waving my katana around extravagantly. Unfortunately, his neck managed to get in the way and his head parted ways with his body. His body continued in its forward trajectory, knocking me off my feet for the second time in a minute.

Incensed by the sudden (albeit accidental) halving of their quartet, Baker and Boots approached, apparently intent upon finishing me as I thrashed about beneath the weight of Beavers headless corpse. Regrettably, Baker strayed too close to my katana, which was (I must admit shamefully) being brandished wildly as I flailed madly and with a degree of panic. An errant slash of my katana managed to sever both femoral arteries and provide him with the qualifications required to provide security in a seraglio.

He joined me on the ground, similarly thrashing about but with a great deal more high pitched shrieking. Distracted by his performance, I barely noticed when Boots pulled the gently cooling corpse of his friend off me. He stood above me, breathing heavily and pure murder in his eyes.

By this stage, I felt positively dreadful. In a few moments, I had managed to polish off his three best friends. Or so I assumed, I was unsure whether he had any other good friends I was unaware of.

Gosh, I began. This is frightfully awkward. Could we perhaps chalk this up to a misunderstanding and go our separate ways? Look, you can have my sword. As a peace offering. As a gesture of willing,I raised my katana for him to take.

I will never know whether this was an acceptable solution to our disagreement, because that was when he slipped in the rather prodigious pool of blood and fell chest first onto the blade.

Oh this is a pickle and no mistake, I thought to myself as I pushed him off me. Thankfully, he was not quite as brobdingnagian as his friend. What on Earth should I do?

A) Leave the scene of the serial accidents. Quickly and without delay.
B) Hide the bodies
C) Loot the bodies
D) B and C
E) Find a police constable and then turn myself in
F) Other

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C, then A

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A
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Eevee-Trainer posted...

C, then A

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Hmm, there isnt much in the way of audience participation. Is it a bit too *niche*?

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A

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The_Creep_2020 posted...

Hmm, there isnt much in the way of audience participation. Is it a bit too *niche*?

Eh, this tends to be about as active as CYOAs on CE get unless they're super popular, in my experience.

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Eevee-Trainer posted...

The_Creep_2020 posted...

Hmm, there isnt much in the way of audience participation. Is it a bit too *niche*?

Eh, this tends to be about as active as CYOAs on CE get unless they're super popular, in my experience.

Pretty much this
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Bumping for a tiebreaker

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Tag

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