As you walk down the left tunnel, the voice comes one more time, faint and fading, “Kyle…” You break out into a jog, the lights in the tunnel passing over your head in a blur. You look back, to see if anything is following you, it feels like something is following you, the tunnel curves to the left, you slow to a walk, still checking behind you. On the blind curve, you trip on a bundle of rags and fall face-first on the floor.
Your hands and shirt are wet. You look up to see the open end of pipe coming out of the wall, a thin stream of foul-smelling water running out of it. Behind you, the bundle of rags moans.You sit up and turn around.
“I’m not a bundle of rags,” he says and stands, a ruddy-face man, unkempt, his hair greasy. He belches, tries to scratch his back and groans.
“I used to be an advisor to the President,’’ he says. “And I wrestled professionally under the name The Atomic Hobo.”
“Who are you?” you ask.
“I ended up living down here because of the media. I hate the media.”
“What are you doing down here?”
“Because you have to ask the question after I answer it, otherwise, why did I answer it? I’m not going to answer a question you don’t ask.”
“Wait, what’s happening? Why are you answering my questions before I ask them?”
“Yes, I know it’s confusing,” he says and belches again.
“I’m confused,” you say, backing away. “I don’t have anything to drink.”
“Do you have anything to drink? No wait, don’t run away.”
You scramble to your feet and run away.
—–
The Atomic Hobo doesn’t follow you, although you continue to check. The tunnel curves to the right and then the left; you find no more doors or intersections. If the ketchup map is correct, you are close.
You notice the temperature dropping, your wet shirt now cold and clinging against your chest, your arms covered in gooseflesh, soon you begin to see your breath. And then, at the end of the last frigid hundred yards, the end of the tunnel and the ladder leading upward.
Each rung up is colder than the last and you worry near the top about your hand freezing to the metal. You spin the wheel at the top and open the hatch. A small blot of snow falls on your face as you climb out into a long room.
Snow-covered trees line the walls, flakes fall from the ceiling, at the end of the room, she is waiting for you in a long white dress. You stand there shivering in your t-shirt and jeans, the heavy gun down the back of your pants cold.
She begins to walk to you, unsmiling, squinting, beautiful and distant. You begin to walk toward her as well if for nothing else to warm up.
“Heelo,” she says softly, flakes of snow in her hair, her eyelashes.
You blush. “Hello,” you say.
“If you are look-king for huzband, he is not here. He does not come here,” she says.
“I am looking for the mail-in ballots, the ones the deep state are going to use to steal the election,” you say. The blood in your extremities feels thick, sluggish.
“There is no deep state,” she says softly. “There are no ballots.” She reaches toward you with bluish fingers and takes off her husband’s hat, his hair coming away as well.
“Do you know why he has given you thees things?”
“He said they know their way around in the tunnels.”
She laughs like icicles breaking off the eaves of a roof.
“They know nothink,” she says, stirring the hair in the hat with a finger. “They tell him deep state foil his plans. They tell him press sektary is sexual for him. They tell him keep me here so I stay young. Return them. They deserve one another.”
She hands the hat and hair to you and leans in close. She kisses your lips lightly and they go numb. She pulls back and smiles, using a fingernail to draw an affectionate line of frostbite down your cheek.
“Go, Kyle,” she says. “Go.”
You walk past her toward the door, the thin line of dead flesh on your cheek burning. You reach it, tap the knob to check the temperature. You open the door and look back at her. You see that all the trees are bleeding.
“I don’t care,” she calls. “Do you?”
You barely close the door behind you before the two Secret Service agents grab you.
“What is this place?” you scream.
“This is the White House,” the tall one says before punching you in the kidneys so hard you pass out from the pain.
—–
You wake up in a cell. You wake up, think maybe it was all a dream.
“Kyle, Kyle, Kyle,” The President says, “I had such high hopes for you.”
You roll over on your cot and look at him. He is standing alone, hunched, his head still shaking.
“Such high hopes, didn’t we?” he says, speaking to the hat perched on one raised fist and the hair sitting on his shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur.
“Sorry’s not good enough, Kyle. Sorry’s not going to cut it. I ask you to find the missing ballots and what do you do? You don’t find the ballots. Where are the ballots, Kyle? Where are the ballots?”
“I don’t know, sir,” you say, sitting up. The pain runs up and down you like dull lightning.
“You don’t know? Would you listen to this? He says he don’t know. And such terrible grammar. Just shameful.”
“I said I was sorry,” you say.
“Well, I guess that makes everything OK, then. No, you’re going back to prison, Kyle. Prison. You failed me, Kyle. You failed America. You know why? Because I am America.”
He waves over the Secret Service agents.
“Go on. Take him. No happy ending, Kyle. Bye-bye, bye-bye.”
THE END
SP’s Note: Please ON TOPIC ONLY comments on this post. To get your regular snark on, go here.
I was drawn out of the story when Kamala called me a “skinny white boy.”
SugarFree is canceled.
Be quiet, Kyle!
Not my fault you didn’t hire me as “diversity sensitivity consultant”
Your rates were ridic.
I was drawn out of the story when there was no poop knife on page 10.
Fake News!
It’s really more of a harpoon in his case.
I kept imagining that I was making the most horrifying choice possible. Yet I’m not sure I did.
Did you go USPS or DNC?
The DNC was much more horrific only because I have experienced many offices with The King In Yellow-esque pretty Latinas playing Andean pan flute music.
DNC basement, then I re-ran it to see what I missed on the 2nd floor.
Yes.
Both. DNC first, then USPS.
First USPS, then DNC, then a short trip to Barron’s play room.
I went to Barron’s too, and visited Melania.
I died a lot too.
Whycome I keep dying?
Is there any “good” outcome?
You made it to the comments. This is the “good” outcome.
So the reward is hanging out with glibs? Don’t we do that anyway?
Only the ones smart and patient enough to make it to the end.
Only those of us with a strong enough gorge.
I don’t recall saying anything about a reward.
You’re taking the site away from us?!
Noooooooo…….
Woohoo!
Good is not a thing in the new normal of 2020.
There is only one “happy” ending.
And you have jizz on your hat.
I was anticipating “wanna fud?” But Ill take it
I was expecting that too.
A true allegory of how no matter what, we truly are fucked. Bravo! Bravo!
STEVE SMITH NO HAPPY. HIM NO FIND BALLOTS! NO FREE CASCADIA.
HIM ALSO SCARED OF KAMALA. HIM NOW HAVE NIGHTMARES.
My head hurts. But at least in one rendition I got to imagine Hope sucking . . . .I’ll leave it there.
Am I the only one who was kind of hoping for a Warty Hugeman tie-in?
Yes?
Ah, well…
2020 makes it hard to believe there is a time-traveling strongman fixing things behind the scenes.
True. I had assumed that this was one of the timelines crumpled up and tossed into the ‘failed experiments’ bin.
Not if you assume that timetraveling strongman is kind of a dick
And had a very idiosyncratic idea of what “fixing things” means.
Wait a minute – isn’t that The Junction pieces?
I…what…that…I, mean.
I need a quiet moment to recover from that. And maybe a large dose of laudanum.
However, I must confess, this was something filled with wonder!
English really needs a word that expresses the emotion of great appreciation for the artistry of the portrayal along with deep and permanent, soul damaging disgust for that which was portrayed. It is not a common emotion, but Hieronymous Bosch managed to evoke it in the Garden of Earthly Delights and SugarFree has done so here.
“SF Bosch”
And SP, Bravo!
Yes, she and SF put in a lot of work. A lot.
It really was amazing.
I overlooked this. Thanks SP!!!!!!!
Forgive my faux pas.
I’m just the monkey pushing buttons.
However, you touched on something important in there. If a website/project/whatever is done correctly, you *should* overlook the mechanics of it and just enjoy the experience.
Thanks to both of you. My faux pas too.
Well, I made it here.
But I used my home computer which is 10 feet away from my work computer where I have to spend the rest of the day.
I may come back and comment every now and then.
SugarFree, can you get me a date with the blonde elevator girl?
She is waiting for you. Look outside.
“Outside”
And you thought Kamala’s office was bad?
We got the clap! You got the clap!
Zombies are added to the cast of all TV shows and Disney movies, with often fatal results.
Not The
BeeSugarfreeHow do they reproduce? Will their child be half-zombie? Don’t they smell? What do they eat?
Jeebus, am I going to have to watch this?
It’s on Disney+, as is the sequel
Anybody know a guy where I can get some peyote?
Did you notice that there’s a sequel?
I forgot to express how wonderful this was. Even though I kept dying, of course.
Thanks SF!
Thank you very much.
WOot
Welcome KK!
My first attempt, I think I got 2 stages in. You can guess why.
Hope? It was Hope wasn’t it? Cause that was my er…downfall?
No comment
No, that was an easy miss… didn’t start failing until the DNC 2nd floor.
Those were all the winning paths.
Only the true losers make it here.
The only true victory is in the void. Very Hagakure.
Wow. It was like I fell behind the group on a White House tour, opened a storage room door and stepped into the real Washington. Kyle Through the Looking Glass.
Bravo!
Gotta go back and make sure I didn’t miss any choices. I always chose the first one. I think that brought me back to where I could take the second.
There are a total of 28 pages. The shortest route to the comments (Page 90) is 8 clicks.
Why would anyone want to take the shortest path?
Because comments comments comments.
Makes me think our State Deptartment has let all the other nations in that area they don’t care what Isreal does like in times past..plan accordingly.
Shit…wrong post lol
That is also a “choose the form of your destructor” adventure in the making as well.
SugarFree, you have really outdone yourself. This was worth the wait! I’ve been enjoying taking different paths all morning. LOVE IT!
Literally not possible without SP. She figured out how to get parts to post without posting and did all the linking to make it work properly.
“like a detonator switch” made me giggle.
Does it count if I made it here by making my choices flipping a 24 hour AA coin and not reading anything?
I assume the 24 hours is a lie?
This was spectacular. And frightening.
My subconscious kept picking the worst possible choices. My penis may never return to non-inverted status.
Sleep with a bowl of milk between your legs tonight, that will coax that brave little man back out.
Great job, lots of fun and obviously a lot of work. I played like I would IRL and got killed a lot. In hindsight it Is a miracle that I have lived as long as I have.
I can’t believe the time you put into this. And I can’t even begin to pick out a favorite line, although the doll heads in the USPS bag and the results of the Google translation of the French was hilarious. ‘Tainted Dove’ is my new favorite band name.
10/10
I have to say, Barron’s playroom was delightful. Well done!
I was particularly fond of the Steve Bannon part.
Hillary Clinton’s incompetent summoning…Delightful.
Imagine Pelosi trying to do it with that horrible lisp.
That was fun.
That was an epic journey. Well done.
I will have to go back and find out what was on the second floor of the DNC. I think my meandering journey (with many dead ends) covered everything but that. Favorite ending though is probably the first one I got, where Kyle accepts Hope’s proposition and it ends with the Hat starting to whisper to him.
That was crazy awesome.
I was really hoping Rufus would have been first so I could give him crap about not working. That or Brochettaward. That would have been funny!
Well done SF and SP!
Ha!
That was really excellent, SF & SP.
I gather there are multiple paths to the “winning” ending? I stumbled through by luck, I think. I “died” twice: Hope’s amorous advances (which was totally worth it, that page was great) and taking the dark hallway under the White House (that some twisted shit). Gotta go back and try other options.
What, no Teen Vogue “Zombie Anal”?
Great Googley Moogley, stay the fuck away from the second floor of the DNC.
A little disappointed Kyle doesn’t tear a piece off of Tristesse… uh, in the non-zombie sense.
Wait a minute … :: consults Google Translate::
Ah. Well, nevermind, then.
Reposted for good measure
I went there. And died several times.
I cannot express the amount of self control it took for me to finish work and my obligations before I read through this, after I saw it first post. I feel like a true adult for not dropping everything to read it.
Now that I’ve been able to take the time to go through it… wow, but it was worth the wait. I think I’ve hit all the endings now, and egads, but this was an epic gift. Thank you so much.
Fan-F-ing-Tastic. Well done!
“DblEagle was here”
Just wonderful, SugarFree. I think I wound up taking nearly every path. Hard to pick a fave, but anthrax zombie apocalypse might be it. Loved the ending, though. Great fun.
Alright reading the comments, I missed more than I thought.
I made it! Though I may have to go back and replay, because I clearly missed some great content. Kudos to SF for the content, and SP for bending WordPress to her will.
Huh. I’m here again. Should have scrolled down before hitting the back button.
Also, ZML?
I did every page and logged it all on paper to keep track. I feel like a true Glib.
Just get the handjob and call it a day
This was great SF and SP. Thanks for all of your hard work putting this together.
In case anyone is wondering if they missed a part, here is a narrative flowchart for the entire work:
You are not going blind. WordPress compressed it.
Wow… Bravo!
That was truly hilarious, vomit inducing, and terrifying all wrapped up in one!
I kept getting killed or worse.
Reminds me of a lyric from Queensryche’s song ‘Eyes of a Stranger’ ” No happy ending like they’ve always promised.”
Kudos, man. Excellent work.