You wake up locked in a deserted jail cell, completely alone. There is nothing at all in your cell, useful or otherwise.

There are no objects around with which to "pry open window".

What pumpkin?

He already has arms, stupid!

It lands with a loud metallic CLANK.

Despite your bellowing, the man casually opens the door and leaves.

As you turn around to unzip, you notice another keyhole.

Wonders where the fuck that pumpkin went???

Exotic rhythms take over your body as you start to do a really silly dance.

You recall your initial urge to urniate out the window. Now that you think of it, you really have to pee.

The urine splashes onto the man outside, who had a change of heart. He is climbing a ladder to give you the key.

Your clumsy fist accidentally flies through the bars, knocking out a passer-by. Keys from his key ring jangle on the floor.

He's unconscious!

You pick up a clump of nutrients-enriched dirt. Sweet spice of the earth! You sit in hushed awe of the lustre of the brown gold.

I beg your pardon?

You wake up next to a broken ladder. You are covered in piss.

You're not even really sure if you're wearing shoes.

Now the key smells like pee too.

The door is locked!!!

Jiggle as you might, the key doesn't work! Now the lock smells kind of like pee too.

CHOO CHOO! All aboard the moron express!

You yell to the imprisoned man. He yells back something barely audible to you.

I'm sorry, I don't think I can do that with all future input from betelgeuse.

You fashion a pretty nice pair of stilts. But you don't know how you're going to get up on them. If only you hadn't broken the other half-ladder in half, you might have been able to climb onto the stilts with it.

Since the whole ladder was approximately the height of the window in the first place, half of the ladder's height will not nearly reach.

The rungs from one end of the ladder-half easily and snugly fit into the holes of the other. No cementation is necessary.

This being the case, you now regret creating the smelly pee mud.

It's still just a little out of reach.

With a little too much gusto, you send the rig sailing too high.

You are not this guy!

You are a little bummed out that you missed grabbing the key by inches. In an attempt to drown your sorrows, you gush forth with melody, an enchanting rendition of Malaguena.

In an attempt to silence your racket, the man above begins drilling noisily.

You're quite certain there has never been, and never will be, a pumpkin in this room!

You sing so hard you topple backwards over the pumpkin. As you lie on the floor looking up, you see the tip of the drill penetrating the ceiling. It looks just big enough for a key to fit through!

The man has opted to take a leak through the hole. You are getting really sick of pee.

With a hefty mouthful of the other guy's urine, you decide to get revenge on the man below for botching the key situation.

But as you're about to spit the pee, the man above takes a huge shit on your head from his window. The surprise unfortunately causes you to swallow the pee.

Overcome with nausea from the foul chain of events, you vomit.

The man below has almost completely reconstructed the ladder using the same method he used to build the stilts. He is nearly up to your cell when he is met with a face full of regurgitated urine.

He's really down for the count!

You're all tapped out for pee at the moment. But the crap on your head is emmitting a powerful stench.

The odor wakes the guard, who suddenly remembers your assault. He enters the cell to beat the shit out of you.

You carelessly trip over a pumpkin which has clearly been in plain sight this whole time.

You knock the man backwards into the door, slamming it shut.

The guard is unconscious again.

You suddenly wonder what happened to the poop on your head.

You're not even sure if this guy is wearing pants.

He did seem to be wearing a belt though.

You flail the belt around uselessly, and then drop it.

He's too heavy to lift completely, so you drag him close to the door and prop him up.

Then smash his face against the door repeatedly.

The door holds fast.

You start to feel sorry for abusing the guard so badly, and mumble an apology.

But then a mere apology doesn't seem to do justice to the poor man. You decide he needs a proper funeral. You sever his head with your trusty pocket knife.

And place the head in the pumpkin, which you just hollowed out.

Using your handy spoon, you dig a hole and bury the pumpkin.

You say a few prayers. He's in a better place now.

::::::GAME STATUS::::::

HEALTH 74
STRENGTH 32
DEXTERITY 41
WISDOM 24
PLUCK 89
METTLE 67
CHUTZPA 90
FORTITUDE 11
TEMERITY 66
CHEEK 95

PUMPKINS DESTROYED 1
KEYS IN INVENTORY 0
KEY THROWING ACCURACY 0%
URINATIONS 3
DECAPITATIONS 1

SCORE 890

You wake up in your cell after a short nap. There is a key to your side, a drill against the wall, and a small pee-soaked hole in the floor.

For the first time in your 3 year imprisonment, it occurs to you to drill a large hole in the floor. You put your back into it.

You are delighted to see your neighbor. You decide you are long overdue for a proper greeting.

Your oversized cranium gets lodged in the hole. You are stuck fast.

Your most creative solution to the problem is to hoist your torso in the air and flail your legs. It seems to be working, when something goes wrong.

You suddenly realize you are now this guy.

All you have is gay porno!!!

The drill is not strong enough to penetrate steel!

All these thoughts of drilling and penetration have given you a serious hankering for some quality time with HUNK RUMP magazine.

You are putting the finishing touches on a robot you have built from ladder pieces. You are soaked in regurgitated urine, and this activity has been a nice diversion. You call him "Logorg".

He's magnificent.

With commanding authority, you issue the order.

Logorg has no brain, motor, or any moving parts!

From atop your great mechanized mount, you command Logorg to break down the door, like a huge battering ram!

You're not sure how you're going to get your brain into Logorg's head, or out of your own head for that matter.

But you get an idea.

Logorg has no moving parts! You can barely move inside your new wooden prison.

You decide all these thoughts of destruction should be offset by a little good earnest love making.

While you contemplate your current options for sexual partners, a whirring is heard from overhead.

You've considered doing a lot of stupid things before, but this idea takes the cake!

From the Logorg ashes rises the phoenix of Drillgorg! Supreme next generation mecha-bot at your service!

You're really excited about the advent of Drillgorg! You have no choice but to totally get down. Festivities and gyrations may or may not continue into the evening.

You don't even know where to begin addressing how stupid that idea is!

With great prescience, you move away from the end of the intestine.

I don't think I'm familiar with make a robot out of that guy!

Crushed by the loss of your prized automaton, your son of lumber, you are reduced to tears.

The other guy consoles you. He thinks he has something that might cheer you up.

You and your newfound buddy stand face-to-face, wondering what to do. The shattered remains of drillgorg rest in a tragic heap.

You decide do climb the intestine from which your new mate descended. He thinks, "what the heck, might as well follow". You both begin a perilous, smelly climb.

The added weight causes a sudden jerk from the other end.

You make it through...

But your partner is not so lucky.

With a great sense of accomplishment, you survey the room. Wow, what happened in here!

Using your trusty rag, you make some pretty good headway on the room. You notice a patch of dirt where it looks like something was buried.

You firmly resolve to eat whatever you unearth from the hole, no matter how unsavory, when suddenly the dirt collapses! A void in the floor is left behind. You'll have to make other dinner plans.

You start to dig, hoping there will be valuables belonging to important people. But your oversized head becomes stuck. There is something oddly familiar about the situation.

You begin to gently squirm and wriggle, when you start hearing an eerie buzz around your head.

Much better! Now you can see through the thick flesh of the vegetable. That's using your gourd!

Through some act of divine collusion, you are drawn to the portal to look down.

You think maybe your coarse gesture was made a bit brashly. Diplomacy may be the most mutually beneficial strategy here.

You kindly voice your request.

The other man, though apprently irrate, seems to be swayed by your tone. After all, you did ask very nicely.

Success!

With great exertion, you attemt to disembody your awareness and move it into another person.

It seems to be working, but not as you hoped.

You wake up to the ghastly discovery that you have no head! Aldo your entrails are spilling out of your abdomen! It's quite painful!

You're flying into a wall suddenly! What's happening!?

The trauma was way to much for your system, and you expire a second time. Your awareness passes on to this guy.

Recalling the drill does not penetrate steel doors, you buckle down and get ready to give it your all.

Except the door is made of wood!

Attempting to place your head on the X, you bump the device, activating it.

It appearifies a pumpkin that looks like it's seen better days.

You remember this guy. You murdered him when you smashed his face against the door! And then you decapitated him because it was the only decent thing to do!

You are so happy to see him again!

God that pumpkin looks delicious.

Your curiousity about the door gets the better of you, but you try to sneak a nibble from the pumpkin nonetheless.

You gather up a couple spare pumpkins and cobble together a very smart looking outfit. You feel invincible suddenly.

Through some act of divine collusion, you are drawn out of the broken door to look up.

You sling the intestine around your neck like a shawl. How glamorous. I'm ready for my close up, Mr. Deville!

Damn. The pumpkin portion is a little too big for the mouth hole.

You think to yourself, "If I didn't have my trusty knife with me, I think I'd slit my wrists!"

Of course! You forgot about your get out of jail free card!

This is not a get out of jail free card.

You are suddenly this guy. You are taking a strong interest in this door, and what's inside. You think to yourself, "I will probably go through this door no matter what other stupid idea pops into my mind!"

You step through the door, which instantly slams behind you and makes a locking noise. You have a feeling it is locked. In the room is a wall which has 3 pumpkin shaped recesses. One has a happy face, another sad, the other, scared or surprised or something. There is a fresh pumpkin on a pedistal, and a carving knife next to it.

The room seems to extend very high up. It might even go all the way to the roof up there.

With your most determined face, you set about turning the pumpkin into a work of art.

You really suck at carving pumpkins!

You are not deterred by any theoretical discrepancies between your handywork and the pumpkin spec. Nor do you feel you have to put the pumpkin in the correct recess.

Fits like a glove.

Removing the pumpkin from the pedestal may have triggered some event, however.

You can't believe how stupid that idea is!!!

But it's worth a shot, I guess.

You figure it's about time you took off this silly and uncomfortable pumpkin armor and put it to good use.

There must be something that can stop the terrible flow of this water! Possibly some mechanism! Maybe right in this room!

Maybe it's the surging, cruel water rising inexorably, but you're suddenly much more inspired to put concerted effort into refining your craft. You hone your willpower into that of a master sculptor. Each slice, each contor of the knife bends to your will. Yes. Yes!

The results are breath taking. The expressions are human emotion incarnate. Why, are these pumpkins, or fellow men rapt within the human condition?

No time for reflection, though.

As you wait for something to happen, you think at the very least, maybe you could float to the opening in the ceiling, even though you're not a great swimmer.

As the water engulfs your head, you hear another distant mechanical sound.

Luckily for the cause of suspense, you are now the other guy in his cell, wondering exactly what to do. There is a noise.

The secret door opens to the adjacent cell.

These two have been long dead. You wonder what kind of moronic adventures they were up to. You guess you'll probably never know.

You pick up the firearm. You now feel powerful and confident. Unfortunately there is nowhere on your person to "pack the heat".

A violin string seems to suit the purpose well.

The window to this cell is barred!

You get the fishy feeling that this is probably more intestine. You've been climbing a lot of intestines lately.

It looks like it goes all the way to the roof. It must be a very long large intestinal tract.

You were wrong. It is actually a small intestinal tract, belonging to a slaughtered sperm whale.

There is quite a panoramic view up here. Surrounding you mostly is other prison buildings. Who knows how many poor souls are trapped in this idiotic facility.

Directly in front of you is another building. You hear water gurgling from it. Just beyond are some mountains, which might be a nice place to escape to, if possible.

You're not really sure what ambergris is, but you have a feeling it will be essential. You grab a liberal dollop and stick it on your pumkin.

You pry the harpoon out of the whale, load it into the barrel, and fire.

The pulley mechanism yanks you swiftly to the other rooftop.

Readying your pistol to be fired indiscrimately into the void below, you hear some murmurs along with the gurgling.

The water seems to be rising slowly.

Looking into his mournful, pleading eyes, you start to reconsider firing your handgun.

You opt for the harpoon gun instead. You figure might need the bullets later if you have to off yourself.

Ok, you think you've got this figured out now! Amidst a lot of swearing and groaning from below, you nonchalantly walk over and pull the crank.

Assuming this will trigger something right away, presumably with respect to the bars, you reel in the harpoon.


The bars stay put. But a ladder emerges, with some kind of control panel next to it a good ways down.

You tie the harpoon tether around the crank so it doesn't go anywhere. You then get down on your knees in preparation for one of your most sincere sounding apologies, when something distracts you.

A 5000 piece jigsaw puzzle on the floor, partially completed! It looks like it's a picture of kittens! This looks like so much fun!

He can't hear your question, and doesn't really care to listen at the moment.

You get your button-pushing finger ready for a field day.

You are disappointed to find it is a simple switch. You pull it nonetheless.

You struggle to remove the pumpkin, but it is swollen from absorbing too much water!

To express your current emotion, you try to twist it to the frowning side, but it gets stuck half-way!

Though blind, you still manage to scramble over and pull the lever again.

You are now the harpooned man.

You can't imagine what this strange device does, but it beckons you.

There are 2 settings on the dial. You leave it at "Pretty Huge". You don't want to get carried away.

You are that guy.

You look around. You appear to be surrounded by mountains, and a shitty looking forest. Also, there's a conspicuous stump there.

There's got to be some way to get down from this pumpkin.

It might be the blood loss, but you've definitely gone bonkers! You load the gun and fire it backwards through your torso, while reciting the play "Henry V". You clearly don't know a single line from this play.

You act fast with your trusty knife to free yourself before the impending collision.

You are now this guy.

Yes! Finally! Free at last!

Though the victory is bitersweet. Your friend has died of blood loss.

This is no victory. The feeling is vast emptiness. You are no longer bound by bars or concrete, but you feel more incarcerated than ever. You come to the heartwrenching conclusion that the only true prison... is loneliness.

There is only one thing left to do.

You wake up locked in a deserted jail cell, completely alone. There is nothing at all in your cell, useful or otherwise.

What in the merciful Christ's name are you talking about?

There is already such a spell carved into your stomach!!!

You don't know what any of those runes mean, and you'll be damned if you're going to try to read them upside-down!!

An elf appears anyway.

Your gay pornography has been forged into a formidable blade.

The elf saw a picture of a penis and started to cry.

Your stats
Health:
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Majyyks:
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Pulchritude:
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Elf's stats
Health:
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Majyyks:
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Pulchritude:
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You could really use a boost in pulchritude if you wish to win this battle.

The elf agrees to grant one wish on the promise that you will acquire a baby for him in the near future.

Choose your wish:

> Get out of jail.
> A new pony.
> Improve your pulchritude.

Choose your second wish:

> Get out of jail.
> Improve your pulchritude.

He's more than happy to magically transport you outside the prison. You had him at "I will get you more babies."

You deal more damage in the fracas, but again clumsy meeleeing skills have left you with the short end of the stick.

Your stats
Health:
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Majyyks:
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Pulchritude:
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Pony's stats
Health:
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Majyyks:
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Pulchritude:
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Elf's stats
Health:
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Majyyks:
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Pulchritude:
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You seem to forget your sword is made of paper, and really isn't capable of cutting anything open.

However, with the pony's already weakened health, the blow is just enough to take him to critical condition. His pulchritude takes a hit too.

Pony's stats
Health:
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Majyyks:
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Pulchritude:
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But the cold night air is imminent, and you have to do something. You decide to get into his mouth for warmth.

Ah, snug as a bug! You have a feeling you'll get a pretty good night's sleep.

While you were doing all that, the elf entered his magic two bedroom bungalow for the night and locked the door. Man, it sure looks warm in

You crawl out of the mouth covered in viscuous horse-slobber. You don't know any fireball spells, but you think maybe there's something useful in the runes on your belly.

No fireballs, but another elf appears.

You flip open the stump easily, revealing a hole. There is a gun in the hole.

You figure the gun was placed there in case you need to off yourself at some point. There seems to be some powerful cosmic magnetism towards suicide which surrounds the stump.

It has no bullets.

There appears to be a bus full of children on a field trip coming down the road. You wait to spring an ambush.

Unfortunately, not one of these children appears to be a baby!

While you were measuring, the bus driver drove off with the rest of the kids, leaving you with only these three.

You see if you can interest the elves nonetheless.

They are apparently unmoved by the offer.

An idea this good just doesn't come around every day! You bind your motley collection of hostages together with your ample supply of rope.

But the combined weight of three kids and a small equine is way too much to even drag to the door.

You're beginning to suspect this was a retarded idea.

You order the children to climb the house and go down the chimney.

The horse tries to gesture that the gun has no bullets.

Inside the bungalow, it is warm and inviting.

Frankly, you think that guy is a little unhinged. You don't want anything to do with him! (unless he has babies of course)

Moscow is west, you boob!!!

You don't know the spell for summoning elves - Russian or otherwise - and the only known spell is carved on the belly of that lunatic. And you're not getting close enough to read it!

The only spells carved on your bellies have nothing to do with elves. From what you can decipher of the runes, you think one has something to do with summoning vegetables.

The other one may give you an elevated mystical communion with animals or something. What a lame-ass spell.

A magical sense of communion tugs at the pony's primitive mind.

A luscious majyyk'd-up carrot tantalizes the pony.

All of the pony's stats are completely restored!

Pony's stats
Health:
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Majyyks:
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Pulchritude:
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That does not sound like an enjoyable activity for either party!

I'm sorry, but I am not familiar with the command "be the pony"!

You really put your back into this enchantment. You will coerce this pony towards murder come hell or high water!

The pony wanders off and snuggles into bed. He looks really warm and cozy.

You are now the pony.

Would you like to play again?