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"Hey, fuzz!"
You need money, and you
need it fast. No time to think. That's probably why you're stupid enough
to actually step up to the nearest police officer and see if he wants to
buy your stolen child off you. You push the kid forward and address the
cop.
"Good day, officer. I wanted to throw a Monster Party this Halloween, so
I went to the seasonal Halloween Shop to see if they had some good party
favors. Unfortunately, the shopkeeper was a recording on video that made
William Shatner rape me and left me with nothing. So then I gave a
blackberry Cobbler to a hobo to help me raise money for my Monster
Party, but all he got me was this stolen child. Now I'm trying to sell
him at high price to pay for my party. Would you like to buy this stolen
child, officer?"
The cop stares at you blankly for two minutes straight, then slowly
answers.
"...duh?"
This is going nowhere. You need to break it down for him.
"You. Buy. Kid. Yes?"
The cop glances at the kid's already emotionally scarred face and begins
to crumble. His eyes glaze over and he pulls out his wallet. Just then,
the door to the coffee shop across the street opens, and his colleagues
come stumbling out, high on coffee and jelly donuts. They walk over to
you and scratch their heads. One of them pulls a small book out of his
pocket and starts flipping pages. He taps the cop that was about to buy
your kid on the shoulder.
"Say, Henry, I'm not sure, but I think this guy is breaking the law."
They all get out their
little pocket lawbooks, finger through it and glance at you. You're
beginning to realize you made a mistake. Since your attention is
currently elsewhere, the stolen kid makes a run for it. Suddenly, one of
the cops cries out:
"AHAH! He's wearing green sandals on a Friday! That's a misdam... misdu...
that's wrong, son."
You're about to mention that you're actually wearing sneakers, and
they're white, when you notice each of the cops' quivering pupils, a
telltale sign of a sugar/caffeine OD. All that coffee and donuts is
causing them to hallucinate. The cops draw their batons and begin to
foam at the mouth slightly. You spin around and make a run for it... but
in vain.
"Watch the spine!"
The excessive amounts
of carbohydrates have gifted the cops with super-speed. They catch up
with you in no time and deal you with a beating you won't soon forget.
Actually, you will soon forget it, as the damage done to your head has
destroyed your short term memory. When the sugar rush subsides, the cops
decide to bust you for littering, since your teeth are all over the
pavement. By the time you begin to regain consciousness again, you're
being dragged down a hallway by a burly prison guard.
"Hey, John, fresh meat!" the guard shouts as he unlocks a cell door and
tosses you into a shadowy, dank cell. The stench of sweat and urine
greets you, and you can hear little things scuttling their way into the
corner when you hit the floor. Then there is a thump, and a sound as if
huge feet are shuffling closer to you. Out of the shadows, a towering
bald guy with tears streaming down his cheeks approaches. Despite his
size, he looks quite harmless.
"Hi!" you say cheerfully. "I'm-"
Before you can finish that sentence, he grabs you by the shoulders,
smashes you into the wall, and tears your pants off your ass. You hear
the sound of a particularly long zipper opening and feel some gratitude
that you're not wearing pants anymore, cause you would've ruined them
now that your bladder lets go.
"Let's be friends, boss."
You press your
toothless gums together in preparation of the Great Hurt That's To Come.
You realize this is probably all your own damn fault for actually
approaching a police officer, of all people, to sell a stolen child to.
Oh well, you'll have plenty of time to ponder on that now!
START
OVER, YOU ID-
"Hey, what's this?"
The prisoner lets go of
you, and you make use of the moment to crawl into a corner. He bends
over your torn pants and picks a small note out of your back pocket. You
recognize it; it's the list of requirements for your Monster Party.
***MONSTER PARTY
REQUIREMENTS***
-Bouncer
-Bartender
-Clean-up Crew
"You throwing a Monster
Party, boss?" the giant asks, sounding excited.
"Well, I was going to." you reply. "But I don't have any of the
requirements yet, and now I'm stuck in here."
Your cellmate goes all teary-eyed again, as he confesses to you that
he's always wanted to go to a Monster Party on Halloween, but he never
knew anyone that threw one. He bashfully shows you a tattoo that says
"MONSTER PARTY ROX!" on his left buttock. Clapping his hands together,
he does a little happy dance in the jail cell while singing "I'ma have a
Monster Party boss!" You tactfully remind him that you still need the
requirements, and there's little chance of that happening while you're
stuck in jail. The prisoner whistles, and two other huge inmates appear
out of the shadows of your cell.
"You got one requirement now!" your huge friend exclaims. "We'll be your
bouncers!"
Excellent. You finally have something useful for your Monster Party. But
now you need to make a plan to escape with your bouncers.
YOU DECIDE TO:
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