Please don't feed PickleMan
Please don't feed PickleMan
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Choose Your Own Adventure: I-MOCKERY STYLE!

You zip open your backpack and begin shoveling the array of bottles adorning the shelf under the bathroom mirror into it. There's some stuff on there that belongs to your sister too, but she always smells nice, and you've always envied the smoothness of her legs. Upon that note, you pilfer her little pink razor. After taking a few other womanly bathroom items which you'll sooner or later have to explain, you turn to the toothbrush rack on the wall. A high-pitched squeal of horror escapes your lips.


Your toothbrush. It. IT'S TOUCHING. IT'S TOUCHING SOMEONE ELSE'S TOOTHBRUSH. That's DISGUSTING! How can you put that thing in your mouth now!? You'll get all sorts of... diseases! What sick person did this!? Oh, you know very well who did it. That's right, it was you. You were pretending the toothbrushes were making out, to inspire you during that session of 'pondering.' Yeah yeah, you were a little confused and desperate. Stop badgering you!

You start drawing a scathing hot bath to boil those evil bacteria right off the toothbrush. Now that you think about it, there's bound to be disease-spreading microbes everywhere at Camp Chopleton. The woods are full of ticks and mosquitoes! You'd better stay home. In fact, you shouldn't even leave the bathroom. The filth right outside this room could probably kill you, and that's exactly what your enemies want! With the first hint of panic crawling down your spine, you slam the door shut and lock it from the inside.

But... look at the doorknob. It's festering with colonies upon colonies of horrible little infectants! And look at the toilet! The sink! The floor! With a deafening shriek, you leap into the cleansing embrace of the piping hot bathwater. As your skin turns crispy inside your clothes and the world around begins to grow dim through a curtain of unrelenting pain, you smile smugly at your triumph over certain illness. Ha... ha... ha.