Adventure Gamers - Forums

>look funny at Flash
Flash remains inert.

Flash sluggishly licks his nose.

>throw tube at Flash
Your throwing arm ain’t been any good since the accident with the musk ox and the hedge clippers.

Flash looks admiringly at the dinner bell.

No beans left. But there is at least one other way to get Flash to run for his life.

Which doesn’t involve farting.

>play harmonica
You blow a few more notes, but you’re not getting any better.

Flash drools.

>give spoon to muddy
Muddy politely refuses your offer. “Thanks, Rick, but one spoon don’t help. Now, if’n we had two, then we could make us some serious music!”

>muddy, throw spoon
Muddy ain’t having none of your balderdash.

>x pocket watch
It’s the wind-up timepiece you received when you were commissioned as an officer in the Confederate Army. It is some small consolation that your jailers were so incompetent as to overlook your one treasure. It currently reads two minutes to eleven in the evening —less than ten hours until you and Muddy are looking like you’re asleep.

>give boot to Muddy
Which all do you mean, the left boot, or the right boot?

>left
Muddy glances at the left boot and says, “I ain’t got no idea what I’d do with your left boot. No thanks.”

>wake pastor Pete

Suddenly, Pastor Pete leaps up and rants, “Blessed is he who fears greatly the WREATHE and COILING of the DESTINY, which, unbound at last, will spring first this way, and then that, bouncing and jostling the CLAMOROUS and the EVER-CHATTERING ranks of the unwary and disillusioned. Yea, though grief be upon us, and the groaning and wailing of the neighbors be slightly disconcerting or indeed unsettling, how much more upsetting would it be to find yourself not wearing your own SOCKS, but those of your neighbor? Who knows what they have done in those socks, or what mysteries those socks would reveal to the chosen few”. He then collapses on the bench again and falls fast asleep.

Pastor Pete murmurs repeatedly, “Kippered herring, please! Kippered herring, please! Kippered herring, please!”

>take off left boot
In some states that would be a felony. Are you sure?

(yes or no) >>yes
You rock back and forth on the floor, locked in a death struggle with your foot. Beads of sweat form on your head, as you struggle to twist and pull the boot off. With a sudden sucking pop, the boot relents and you tumble backwards.

Muddy’s eyes water as he complains, “Ain’t you got no sense of smell in that head of yours?”

To which you reply, “Not after I been downwind of you around feeding time, nope. This ain’t nothing next to what you can do with a can of beans!”

Flash wakes with a start and sneezes loudly. The fur on his back bristles, and he opens his eyes to stare in horror at your feet. He backs away, towards the front door. The leash pulls taut. He seems caught in the balance between an urge to run away from your stinky foot and his own laziness, which holds him to the spot.

>take off right boot
Oh, you really don’t want to do that. Not indoors at least. Are you sure?

(yes or no) >>yes
You rock back and forth on the floor, locked in a death struggle with your foot. Beads of sweat form on your head, as you struggle to twist and pull the boot off. With a sudden sucking pop, the boot relents and you tumble backwards.

Muddy’s eyes water as he complains, “Not again! My poor nose!”

One foot was bad enough, but two is more than the old dog can handle. Trying not to sniff the air, Flash turns tail and breaks for the door, straining against his leash, which is tied to the steam pipe lever. The lever swings towards the door, and from the roof you hear the ear-splitting drone of a railway steam whistle.

You agree with Muddy that the deputy is not likely to be in a good mood when he arrives, so you put your boots back on.

The Deputy slams through the swinging doors to the office, lurching to the side as he struggles to put his other leg into his pants. He is bare-chested and empty-handed, aside from a nearly drained bottle of whiskey. Flash is so scared that he yanks the leash and snaps the lever clear off the machine.

The deputy thunders, “What the cluster-chucking blazes is the matter here?” The deputy surveys the office quickly and then rattles the gate to make sure it is still locked. In his drunken rage, he doesn’t notice the missing metal bar.

“Dumb dog,” he mumbles, “I was doing important business.” He looks around for Flash, but the dog has already slid out of the office. The deputy grumbles to himself and sets off again towards the door.

The deputy brightens. “Ummm. I do smell me some coffee.” The deputy drains the mug with a single gulp. “That’s good. I got to wake me up some.”

Almost immediately, the deputy spins on his heel and drops to the floor just in front of your jail cell.
[Your score has just gone up by one]

>x deputy
You are relieved to find that the deputy is unconscious, but breathing. He is wearing only a pair of pants—no shirt, no gun belt, no boots.