by Colm Hogan
Cthulhu Attack ~ Click here to return to your decision ~
You choose to reason with the Cthulhu. After all, monsters are generally misunderstood creatures that were probably bullied when they were kids, right? Wrong, you dumbass. It’s too late for psychotherapy for this monster. The only thing it wants is one thing now. And it’s your blood. And guess what? It succeeds this task in mere seconds by wrapping it’s tentacles around your head and draining all the blood from your body. Your body is drained and limp like a goddamn boneless chicken before half the time it takes to make five minute rice. Game over, home slice. ~ Back To Start ~
You choose to fight the Cthulhu. As a general rule, ninjas don’t exactly approve of firearms. There are way too many guns on this planet and considering how many douchebags there are out there, it’s just not an ideal ratio. That’s why ninjas normally opt for weapons that take more skill, style and finesse. But let’s face it, some situations call for an exception to the rule. Your buddy Delroy tosses you one of your favourite weapons. It’s a modified M67-X smart gun, a cherished relic from your xenomorph hunting days. “Thanks bro. I always knew I could count on you.” “No problem,” he grinned back, giving you the secret thumbs-up gesture, only known to pirates. It’s kind of like the normal thumbs-up for normal people but different. And way cooler. It’s impossible to describe. “It’s go time!” On your verbal cue, everyone opens up with their weapons on full automatic. Remember that scene in Predator? When everyone fires at the same time into the jungle? It’s like that, only this time, it’s directed at a clearly visible monster and you are all hitting the target. I’m not going to lie to you here - this shit is totally sweet. You quickly come up with a plan. With your trusty ninja dagger clenched between your teeth, the next time a tentacle sweeps down towards you, you grab hold of it, and on your hands and knees, you somehow manage to climb up on top of the slippery beast. Remembering your Cthulhu anatomy class, you locate his cerebral cortex and plunge your ninja dagger deep inside the beast, twisting it, and yanking the whole thing out. The beast falls down like a pile of godamn green plastic Lego bricks. You are the hero, and are richly rewarded for slaying the beast. This involves a brand new five year teaching contract as a tenured ninja professor. Plus full benefits and a shiny new Prius. Stop laughing. It’s a sensible car with great mileage. It’s also good for the planet, because of climate change; which is way scarier than any monster out there. Like any good ninja, you’ve learned to respect the planet. Good job, homie. ~ Back To Start ~
You choose to join a small band of fellow elite ninja warriors. Your first meeting is under an ancient oak tree at midnight. Your fellow warriors appear out of the darkness. One of them steps forward. He identifies himself as Tony. “Hi, my name’s Tony.” “So what do we do now?” He hands you a scroll sealed with the secret ninja wax seal. It contains instructions for your quest. You open it. It reads the following. Your secret mission is to hunt down and capture or kill a rogue band of ninjas. They are reputed to be in the Kandahar province of Afghanistan. They are working as mercenaries for a local warlord. One more thing – one of your team is suspected of being a mole, secretly supplying the mercs with information. “Great,” you say, thinking out loud. “What’s up? Everything all right?,” asks Tony. “Uhhh, nothing. We’ve got a mission.” “Well, let’s do this thing then,” says Tony. The rest of the gang shout: “YEAHHHHHH.” Then you realize you forgot to read the last sentence. You scan it quickly. This message will self destruct in five seconds. In like five seconds, the scroll spontaneously combusts into a ball of fire. “AHHHHHHH!” You cry as you drop it to the ground and stamp it out with your feet. “It was kind of burning my hands,” you remark, a little defensively. They don’t look impressed. You clear your throat, attempting to regain your composure. “Um, okay. So it looks like we’re going to Afghanistan.” You choose to take the boat to Afghanistan. You choose to fly to Afghanistan.
You choose to take a boat to Afghanistan. You kind of miss boats, because of the whole pirate thing. The boat you choose is seaworthy enough and because it was built by ninja shipbuilders, it looks totally badass. Like something between an old school schooner and a goddamned space ship. Jet black and dangerous, a stealth fighter jet with sails to boot. The first couple of days go smooth like ninja butter. Until one fateful morning when you hear a commotion outside. You quickly realize the boat is surrounded by a band of evil hybrid dolphins with mechanical laser weapons attached to their dorsal fins. You order your crew to open fire, but it’s no use. You are no match for these godamned psychotic mammals. They tear your vessel into goddamn swiss cheese and capture you in mere seconds. A bonfire is held in your honour on a nearby beach. They sing Kumbayah in dolphin speak, before devouring you, barbeque style. The bastard dolphins manage to turn you and your buddies into brisket sandwiches. At least they didn’t leave your beautiful corpse to waste. If it’s any consolation, you taste delicious. The End. ~ Back To Start ~
You choose to fly to Afghanistan. The most direct route carries you over the Syrian Octagon. Never heard of it? Almost no one has. It can best be described as a smaller, but no less deadly version of the Bermuda Triangle. There’s only a couple of intelligence agencies that know about it. This is next level intelligence shit. You and your ninja posse begin your flight according to plan. The weather is good. There are hardly any clouds in the sky, but there’s a storm up ahead, so you have to take a detour that carries you deeper into the infamous Octagon. All of a sudden, something goes horribly wrong. You start slowing down, then, inexplicably, your speed increases. You lose control of your flight no matter what you do. You turn to your left to see how your buddies are doing, but they’re not there. You turn to your right, same deal. There’s no goddamned trace of them. You realize you are totally on your own. You try your best to maintain your current speed and altitude for as long as you can. By nightfall, you decide to put yourself down in a small clearing by a rural village. Once on the ground, you walk through a tall field of corn and make your way to a farmer’s house. There are candles burning inside the window, so you approach it and tap on the glass. An old man sees you. He rushes towards you and silently motions you inside. He looks panicked. You try to explain your predicament but he tells you to shut up in a strange language you can’t comprehend. Just then, a loud rumbling sound occurs outside and the old man quickly blows out the candles. Both of you stare out the window together in the inky darkness. Suddenly, a row of WWII tanks appear. On the first one, there’s a flag mounted on top. You squint until the moonlight catches it at the right angle. “Holy fucking shit,” you remark. It’s a goddamned Nazi flag! You look closer. There are soldiers walking alongside the tanks. But there’s something not quite right about these hombres. They are groaning and stumbling, more than walking. You look closer and realize with a cold chill running down the length of your spine; these are no ordinary run of the mill Nazi infantry soldiers. These are goddamned Nazi zombies. ~ Click here to see them ~ You choose to help defend the old man. You choose to run away as fast as possible.
Nazi Zombies ~ Click here to go back ~
You choose to help defend the old man. You hand over one of your favourite ninja swords to the old-timer. Thinking you stand a better chance at survival by splitting up, you hide in separate closets. Both of you quietly wait for the zombies to pass. You hold your breath, sitting there sweating like a nun stranded inside a cucumber patch. Unfortunately for both of you, one of the zombie Nazi soldiers decides to search the house. You remain quiet until the last possible moment before stealthily opening the closet door. You approach him from behind and slice his throat like a goddamned avocado and brie sandwich – ninja style. The zombie motherfucker goes down like a fat kid on a seesaw. You help him fall gently so he doesn’t make a sound. The rest of the troupe pass by without incident. Once the coast is clear, the old man thanks you by making a great feast. You dine on suckling pig and duck a l’orange until your belly is full. As a parting gift, the old geezer presents you with a sui
tcase filled with his most prized possessions. This includes a Ginsu knife, three Chia Pets, and the complete works of Tony Robbins on VHS cassette. Sweet. You are now on your way to your next adventure, and totally empowered. Nice work, home slice. ~ Back To Start ~
You decide to run away as fast as possible. Screw this, you think to yourself. I ain’t got time for this shit. You push past the old man and climb out the window. On your way out, something makes a startled meow cat sound. You realize, it’s of course a cat. It must be the old man’s. It’s black and white, and kind of cute, but none of that matters because it made a sound. In seconds the Nazi zombie bastards have surrounded you. You’re able to take out a few of them before succumbing to their blows. Just before one of them finishes you off, a high ranking colonel wearing a monocle in his left eye and a plastic tipped cigarette in his mouth orders them to stop. He approaches you and clumps you over the back of your head with something heavy. You black out instantly. You wake up in a dark prison cell. Although there is a guard posted outside, he looks like he has dozed off. After carefully taking in every inch of the room, you decide an old ventilation shaft is your best chance of escape. You inspect the sealed front side and notice it is held together with screws. You pull out your secret ninja pouch. Lucky for you, those brainless Nazis must not have been able to detect it during their search. Inside, you find the right tool for the job. It’s a ninja screw driver set. You proceed to unscrew the grill. You hoist yourself up and climb inside. You begin to climb through the ancient ventilation system. It’s made of iron, and is completely dark. Every five feet or so, there is a series of ancient, rusted bolts tying one section of the system to the other. You can hear faint voices like ghosts passing in the night. Although you are terrified, you find it within yourself to push on through. Every now and then, there is an opening. You peer through the first room. It’s a mess hall filled with Nazi bastards eating brain stews and drinking German beer. You continue on to the next one. To your delight, as you peer through the grill, you can make out the figure of the old man. He’s sitting in a dungeon cell similar to the one you were in. You whisper to make yourself known and he looks up. He sees you. You decide to help him escape. You tell him you will send help for him.
You learn to use Magic, Potions & Poisons. It’s going to be just like a Harry Potter movie, you think. And it kind of is, for awhile. You get the whole Hogwarts experience, with classes during the day taught by old ninja wizards. You learn tons of neat skills. One night, on a dare from your classmates, you sneak out and climb into the classroom to produce some homemade pirate moonshine that you bragged about knowing how to make. Everything is going perfect until you test your concoction. Your throat immediately seizes up. When you look down, you notice your skin turning green and huge warts popping up all over your body like goddamn psoriasis popcorn. The motherfucking teachers must have replaced the test tube that read Alcohol with one that should read Toad, just to weed out drunk ass suckers like yourself. You are now a giant toad. Serves you right, trying to impress people. You should have buckled down and studied, dumbass. Ribbit, ribbit, motherfucker. ~ Back To Start ~
Fuck it – you choose to keep celebrating. Who cares about this kid anyhow? Life is too short to worry about this schmuck. I’ve got a tall glass of beer and a huge ass plate of chicken wings waiting for me with my name on it. You turn around and make your way to the exit of the washroom. Once seated, you begin to drink your beer when a commotion erupts inside the bar. The pirates, having just finished robbing and killing the young boy, have made their way back inside the main dining area. They are making a beeline for you. You finish up your last jerk chicken wing in a second, because those things are delicious. You love jerk chicken wings. In your haste and much to your misfortune, you forgot that you need to eat the meat around the bone before discarding it. You swallowed the entire goddamn chicken wing without thinking. You get up to face the pirates, but immediately start to choke to death in front of them while they laugh their asses off. Learn to chew your food slowly and swallow, before deciding to kick some ass. Game over, home skillet. ~ Back To Start ~
You learn Telekinesis. How cool would it be to be able to move objects with your brain and mess with other people’s minds? It turns out it’s loads of fun. The only problem is, there is a bully in your class. He keeps trying to get inside your head and call you names. He is a tiny twerp of a kid, but it turns out he has some pretty bad ass telekinetick skills. You challenge him to a telepathic duel after school. You choose to try to reason with this dweeb.
You challenge him to a telepathic duel after school. You think you can take on this ass clown. Bad decision. He turns your brain into a sphincter that’s just downed twelve Big Macs. Your brain explodes all over the school parking lot. Don’t always judge a book by it’s cover, numb nuts. ~ Back To Start ~
You learn to master the art of seduction. What a great way to get laid! And it is, for awhile. You learn all kinds of mad skills, while achieving ultimate player status. You learn how to seduce anyone; young, old, fat, skinny, everyone. And I mean, everyone. You get so good at it, that it becomes an obsession. You can’t stop. Until one day, you look down, and realize your schlong is about to fall off from a whole whack of diseases. You forgot that old BDP track. Remember to make your Jimmy wear a hat, so Jimmy will have an opportunity to come back. You head to the hospital and die a slow, painful death. Check yourself before you wreck yourself, bro. ~ Back To Start ~
You decide to help him escape. You pull out your ninja tool set and unscrew the ventilation grill. He’s a heavy sonofabitch, but eventually you are able to hoist the old man up. Amazingly, the ventilation shaft doesn’t collapse on the two of you. You take a moment to marvel at German engineering, before moving on. The old man knows the prison, and is able to direct you towards freedom. Eventually, you reach an outside shaft. You bust out using 100% brute ninja force in the form of a totally sweet Judo chop. After climbing down the wall from a rope you made out of socks, shoe laces and candy wrappers, you make it outside. Congratulations, you are now free. Once safely away, the pair of you celebrate at the closest Red Lobster. Despite your protest, the old man insists on paying. Nice work homes. Try the Parrot Isle Jumbo Coconut Shrimp. I hear they’re pretty delicious. ~ Back To Start ~
You tell him that you will send help for him on your way out. To be honest, it seems like a super big hassle to help the guy. Besides, he’s an old man. How many years left has the guy really got before he croaks? You continue on until you come to another cell. This one’s empty, but the cell door to it appears open. You decide to climb down into it, thinking you can escape easily. Once inside the cell, you hear a stirring behind you. One of your worst fears since childhood is waiting. It’s a monster sized cockroach with goddamned wings on it, and the motherfucker looks hungry. If you had helped the old man out, maybe you wouldn’t be in this predicament. Sayonara, you selfish douche nozzle. ~ Back To Start ~
You choose to try to reason with this dweeb. The next day during your lunch break, you decide to sit next to the boy, who normally sits at a table all by himself. You offer him a bite of your sushi sandwich. The kid is so taken aback, he is speechless. After asking him to tell you about where he came from, you realize that his parents were dipshits that treated him like crap before abandoning him in the middle of a forest. You quickly realize, this is how dipshits come to be. You offer him the rest of your sandwich and your friendship. The only thing you ask for in return, is for him to extract all of his douchiness and bury it in the backyard, forever. Realizing that in this world, the kindness of strangers is a precious commodity, the kid reaches for your delicious sandwich with tears in his eyes. Nice job homie. Although there are a wealth of ninja skills out there, learning how to forgive and forget is probably one of the best tools to have in this lifetime. Vaya con Dios, you magnificent bastard. ~ Back To Start ~
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