Choose Your Own Nuthouse
Zorlath the Betrayer seems to be heading down the path to Lake Doomhole. It is- as are nearly all such paths- very scary. To bolster your confidence you open and take a huge pull off a bottle of Jägermeister, meaning whoever you stole it from now only has half a bottle left. You’d care, but you just drank a whole shitload of Jäger, not to mention a large number of beers. You are, to put it lightly, absolutely wasted. Sweet.
You stagger off after Zorlath the Betrayer, giggling down the scary path. You try to whistle nonchalantly, but you are too drunk and you just wind up spitting a bit. You find this absolutely hilarious and descend into a fit of riotous laughter.
You are still laughing your ass off when a voice behind you says, “Drunken fool! Pull thy wits about thee, and cease this raucous din!”
You jump, startled and giggling. But it’s just Zorlath the Betrayer. You know this without looking. Only Zorlath the Betrayer talks like that. Zorlath the Betrayer is a little weird like that.
“That’s Zorlath. The Betrayer.”
“Right, right. Zorlaph. Anyways, I was lookin f’you. Wanna have a li’l talk. Izzat cool? Can we talk?”
Zorlath the Betrayer rolls his eyes. “What troubles you, my intoxicated friend?”
“The voice said you’re gonna betray me. You don’t wanna do that. I love you, man, you’re a great guy but I’ll hafta fuck ya up if you go betrayin’ on me, y’hear?”
Zorlath the Betrayer, who is currently holding you upright, nods solemnly.
“ ‘Coz I don’t take shit fr’m nobody and that includes betrayers. Betrayers named Zoloft. Have I told you wadda great guy you are?”
“Good, coz I’m gonna pass out now.” You do so.
When you come to, you find yourself lashed upside down to a tree. Wow, you think, just like middle school. You are still drunk and have no idea how much time has passed. You aren’t positive how you got here, but you have a pretty good idea.
Zorlath the Betrayer, that betraying bastard! Why, if you weren’t lashed firmly and nakedly (aww, dammit!) to a tree you’d really give him a talkin’ to. Yes siree. That Zorlath the Betrayer is going to pay dearly for his betrayal. Very dearly indeed.
And boy, do you have to pee! This would be a really unpleasant thing to do at the moment, as you are currently hanging upside down and naked. A nosefull of urine is not your idea of fun times. You wiggle around a bit, hoping to loosen the (very itchy) ropes holding you to the tree. You succeed in scraping your naked ass and spine on the bark, and rubbing raw the skin under the ropes. Sadly, you are not any closer to being free than you were, and now you are also bleeding a bit. You hope the tree is clean, otherwise you could get an infection. You sigh and wonder what to do.
You wind up being there for a very long time. Just how long is a mystery, but the sun has come up and now seems to be pretty high in the sky. You have a splitting headache from hanging upside down. This is only slightly worse than the mosquito bites covering every inch of your skin, and the three, count ‘em, three individual spiders using your body as an anchoring point for their webs.
They’re big spiders, too. All pointy and spindly. And mean. They’ve all bitten you several times, apparently out of simple malice. Yoou hope that the spider webs will catch some of the mosquitos that have been feeding on you, but this is not the case. The mosquitoes seem to be smarter than you would think, and deftly avoid the webs, homing in on your tender, delicious flesh. This angers the spiders, who blame you, and punish you by biting you a lot, and running all over your nakedness, because they know you’re freaked out by spiders, and this amuses them.
The sun, unobstructed by clouds, quickly burns your exposed flesh. And remember you’re naked, so there’s quite a bit of that.
“All pretenses aside, my friend,” comes a sudden voice from just out of your line of sight. You scream, and a spider runs into your mouth and bites your tongue. “But it was I, Zorlath the Betrayer, who betrayed you.”
“Really? Because I thought it was somebody else. Certainly not somebody who calls himself ‘The Betrayer.’ That would have been too simple.” You are surprised that you still have the capacity for sarcasm. “I have just one question.”
“Why?” Zorlath the Betrayer meanders casually into your field of view, and sits on a log, smiling slightly.
“Well, asshole, if you were lashed to a tree naked and covered in spiders, wouldn’t there be a few questions on your mind?”
“Yes, there would be. But it were not my intent to query the reasons behind your question. Instead, I merely wished to guess the question you yourself would be asking. I apologize for the confusion.”
“Yeah, okay. So. Why?”
“Apologies again, my doomed friend. I am an honorable man, and I love honesty with all the passion in my breast. You said you had but one question, and you have already asked one question. Were I to answer another, I would but be aiding in your dishonesty.”
“Oh, come off it you asshat! You lash a guy to a tree and leave him naked for the spiders, you owe him some answers!”
“Not really.” Zorlath the Betrayer stands up, brushes some bark and dirt off his cape, and turns his back to you, wandering off into the woods without another word.
You’re pretty steamed, and swear to give Zorlath the Betrayer a piece of your mind when he comes back, but he never does.<>Sixteen hours later you are dead, the spiders, having sickened of your constant whining and swearing, called their friends to crawl all over your nakedness, and bite you to death while you scream in terror and disgust.
Back to previous choices for you!