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Choose Your Own Misadventure: Tripping at a Costume Party

PAGE 4

"Me cool!" you cry out, frantically waving your arms in a punching motion (to show that you mean peace, even though you're capable of such devastatingly powerful punches). "Some of me best fri-"

But the hominoid either does not understand, or does not care about your intentions. It is too hurt, too frightened, and entirely too panicked for communication. In its sheer, blinding terror, it inadvertently shoves the spear deeper into its abdomen, until the weapon disappears within the wound entirely. It turns to flee, hooting in agony.

"Wait!" you cry, "I can pull that tiny thing out! I can help you!"

"Get away from me, pervert," it hollers back, in a remarkably normal human voice, "and it's not tiny! It's just cold out here!"

Somewhere, you presume, the great ape curls up in a dark corner of the woods and dies, alone. And that's it: You've missed it. You've missed your one chance to have a Sasquatch friend.

You sit right down and die of heartbreak, and also of a massive drug overdose.

THE END.

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Robert Brockway

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