Text Adventure Maker: The Text Adventure

> Throw a d20 into a hole.

> make the hole bigger

>Try to find Dad

Crap. It's been 28 hours since you left the house. Where is he? As it turns out, he's examining the charred remains of the forest for you, but you don't know this yet. You look around the graveyard, yet the only body around here is you.

>Throw the d20 into the hole

>Make the hole bigger

You see that d20 you rolled. You throw in a small hole that contains flowers next to a gravestone. You decide that this must be a flower house, so you make the hole bigger for more flowers.

Edited by Playing_with_boy on Mar 20th 2020 at 10:28:06 AM

> Make a flower crown

> Cry

> Stumble upon daddy.

>Make a flower crown

With all the these flowers there for no apparent reason, you should do something with them. You decide to take 168 flowers to make a crown with a width of 7 flowers, a length of 12 flowers, and a depth of 2 flowers. There's people visiting the graveyard who find your crown disrespectful for the big-sleeping people.

>Cry

You think that if you start tugging on the people's heartstrings via crying, you can appeal to their sympathy. It doesn't work.

>Stumble upon daddy

Your father's visiting the graveyard, crying because he saw the gravestone of your mother (but you don't know this). He sees your crown, and throws it onto the ground. He yells at you for disrespecting the graveyard, and for running away from home.

Edited by Playing_with_boy on Mar 23rd 2020 at 8:51:52 AM

> Apologize. Or alternatively, hug daddy.

> Let daddy take you home.

>Justify that you're still a one year old

>Apologize and hug daddy

Your father looks absolutely angry. You say "Eye sew ray, Papa," then hug your father. He's ... less angry.

>Let Father take you home

Your father sighs for a bit, then (holding you) walks past some grievers, past some crows fighting for a pizza crust, past the burnt wreckage of the forest, past a baseball bat laying on top of a mountain of dirt, past a hole, into your home.

>Justify that you're still a one year old

You realize that it has only be a year and two months since your birth. Why do you know how to apologize already? You start to have an existential crisis, but then you focus on the fact that your father is turning on the TV to watch the news.

> Demand daddy that he change to the kiddie channel.

>Demand daddy that he change to the kiddie channel

Sigh. Your father has bad taste. He listens to an odd channel where they discuss death, the new millennium, smartphones, the weather, sports, the Spanish Flu, that new album by ... Gum And Rise[?], rats and some guy named Obama. You ask Father if he could change it to Nick Jr., but he says no.

Edited by Playing_with_boy on Mar 23rd 2020 at 10:24:12 AM

> Go to bed early

> Dream about the news.

>Go to bed early

Gee-whiz, the news is so BORING. You decide that doing nothing is preferable to listening to the news, and thus you head off for sleep.

>Dream about the news

The news invades your dreams. In the dream, the newscaster (holding a jar of green liquid) says something in Pig Latin.

What do you do?

> Smash the jar

> Try to figure out what the newscaster said.

> Newsbomb the caster

>Smash the jar

Let's admit it, that green (now red) slime looks ... odd. Always wanting to see the aftermath, you throw the jar right square in the eye of someone who's holding a desk lamp and killing a moose. The slime falls on the floor as if it's a solid.

>Try to figure out what the newscaster said

The newscaster, who just went of her coworker's desk to hop on it, is repeating herself. She said, "Aay ottedray estchay inventoray ofay amegay exhay omethingsay atthay's lotpay elevantray itwokayway ollay can I umpjay onay eskgibberishday."

>Newsbomb the caster

The red slime is falling from the ceiling. This makes you soar into a pencil case just laying on the telephone's cord. You then say "At 15, a little pet. At 20, she'll play croutonette. At 42, she'll find a man before Y2K, just as the computers start killing humans. Trust me, the Terminal said soette. At 50, At 3:14 a.m. on Tuesday, January 19, 2038, many of our modern microprocessors and computers are going to stop working. And all because of how they store the current date and time. Individual computers already have enough problems keeping track of how many seconds have passed while they are turned on; things get worse when they also need to keep completely up-to-date with the date. Computer timekeeping has all the ancient problems of keeping a calendar in sync with the planet plus the modern limitations of binary encoding, and she'll also take action for wymin's rights." That was a ... mouthful.

> Wake up from the apocalyptic nightmare.

> Sob loudly

>Wake up from the apocalyptic nightmare

You "wake up". You're now at Wendy's. You have a beard now.

>Sob loudly

The cashier looks at you funny. She says, "Mommy no want visitors. All right?". You cry, because you did something wrong. Everyone looks at you weird.

Then you wake up for real. You're still sob loudly, but at least you understand why Father's angry.

> Try telling Daddy about the dream.

>Try telling Daddy about the dream

You try to tell Father about the dream, but all that comes out is "Mommy sleep." Good job.