Lost In A Cave!
Oh, no! You are lost in a cave and you’re desperately trying to find a way out! Really, you have nobody to blame for this misfortune but yourself. Also, Daniel, who drugged you, tied you up, blindfolded you and wheelbarrowed you here.
After breaking free from the ropes that once bound you and walking for fifteen minutes, the cave splits into two passageways. Down the left passageway, you hear people screaming in pain and misery, crying for their mothers with what is undoubtedly their last breaths. From the right passageway, you hear, distantly, reruns of the 90’s television show “The Nanny.†Which way should you go?
If you go down the left passageway, turn to page 53.
If you go down the right passageway, turn to page 22.
Result: As it turns out, it doesn’t matter which passageway you go down, as both result in watching reruns of the 90’s television show “The Nanny.â€
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Saskatchewan!
It’s 1874, and you’re an officer in Canada’s newly appointed North-West Mounted Police. Colonel George Arthur French has assembled you and your fellow officers and constables at Fort Dufferin, and now you’re about to set off for the notorious whiskey trading post called Fort Whoop-Up. Sadly, your equipment has seen better days.
“Sir,†you say to Colonel French, “Shouldn’t we hold out for better equipment?â€
“We can’t,†Colonel French says, giving you the stinkeye. “If we don’t march west now, it could mean stunting the early growth of towns like Brandon, Regina, Medicine Hat and Calgary.†Colonel French takes a deep breath, shakes his head and says, “But I’ll leave it up to you, officer.â€
What should you do?!
If you decide to wait for better equipment thereby putting the fate of towns like Brandon, Regina, Medicine Hat and Calgary at risk, turn to page 103.
If you don’t know what any of this means, and don’t really give a fuck, turn to page 2.
Result: It’s hard to compare the two given options, as this book has only 102 pages.
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Operation: Spy!
The CIA has chosen you to be one of their Elite Spies on a confidential mission. When you ask what the objective of the mission is, they tell you that it’s confidential, hence the name ‘confidential mission.’
“Yeah, but shouldn’t the spy involved in the mission know the objective?†you say.
“You’ll know when you need to know,†says your supervisor.
“And when will that be?†you ask right before getting shot in the head.
You are dead. The end.
Result: Don’t ask so many questions next time, Socrates.
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Laureate Madness!
You’ve just been named Poet Laureate of the United States of America! Congratulations! But look out! Someone in a Toyota Yaris is chasing you! Probably Donald Hall. Sure, he’s already been Laureate, but he’d rather take the honor again than let you have it. Let’s face it: Hall always was jealous of you, ever since you beat him at that villanelle-off. Yes, he followed the rigid rhyme scheme, but, Christ, his tercets! And perhaps you went too far when you said he had “Kenny-G quatrains�
Hall sticks his head out of his car window and bellows through a megaphone, “The Laureate is mine! Beware the Yaris!â€
What do you do?!
Do you finally do what you’ve been planning all these years: challenge Hall to a winner-takes-all steel-cage sestina competition, with Billy Collins serving as judge? If so, turn to page 32.
Or do you tell Daniel Tosh—who is sitting next to you in the passenger seat—to take the wheel so you can jump onto Hall’s car, sneak through the open passenger-side window and negotiate some kind of truce? Turn to page 122.
Result: In either case, you crash your car into a lamppost. When you wake up, Daniel Tosh gives you a drink of water to help you “recuperate,†except that Daniel actually drugged the water, which was part of his plan to steal the Laureate honor. Next thing you know, you’re being blindfolded and wheelbarrowed to the middle of a cave.