Current Events > CYOA: You've been raised from the dead by a necromancer.

(+) Yeah! (+)

Ab

Fuck it I'm changing to C
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C.

I like not knowing what that blunt option could be. So many possibilities for shenanigans.
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C. A brick specifically
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C. You have a hammer
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CM_Ponch posted...

C. You have a hammer

Oh god yes, please.
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CM_Ponch posted...

C. You have a hammer

Hahaha my grand plan, after all these years, has finally come full circle!
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Go C
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I won't be able to update tonight. Hosting a Christmas in July party.
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CM_Ponch posted...

C. You have a hammer

...Yep, let's go with this one.
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...I personally think a Zombie with a gun would be rad >_>
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Bump
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Should be able to update tonight.
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Sorry, time really got away from me tonight. Tomorrow for sure.
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Bump.
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C) Find a blunt object for bashing.

"I guess I better find something a beat someone to a pulp with," you shrug.
"That's the spirit," Jenna cheers. "Are you sure you don't want to use a gun?"
You shake your head. "I don't have a gun license."
"I don't think you need to worry about the law anymore now that you're dead," Jenna tells you. "Plus, getting held up about a gun charge when you're already prepared to commit murder is a little silly."
"I don't even know where to get a gun."
"You want a gun? I can get you a gun," she offers.
"No, you've done enough. Planting the idea of murder in my head was already a greater gift than I could have hoped for from a complete stranger," you smile. "I hope you burn the Beta Alpha Delta house to the friccin' ground."
"Thanks, Slim. Good luck." Jenna stands up, walks over, and gives you a short hug. "You smell really bad."
"I was in the ground," you announce joyfully.

You resume your whistling as you head to the marina. You look to your right and see a construction site that's been isolated by traffic cones and caution tape. Probably some good stuff for bashing yacht captains in there. As you take a step into the street a man in a white hardhat sprints out of the site and start charging you with a hammer raised in the air. "Die zombie!"
You back onto the sidewalk with your arms held out and say, "No no no, don't! I'm not a zombie!"
The man stops dead in his tracks in the middle of the street and puts his hands on his knees. "Oh thank God. I drew the short straw, I don't know how to fight zombies."
Now that he's calmed down, you can tell him the truth. "I lied just then, I... I am a zombie," you confess.
"Aaaaaah!" As he raises the hammer again, you actually recognize him.
"Nonono! Wait! I know you!" you plead.
He lowers the hammer a second time. "You do?"
"Jason! Jason Burnett! We went to high school together, man."
A pained moment of realization comes over Jason's face. "Rosen?"
You nod.
"I thought you died two months ago," he says.
"I did," you hold your hand out as you see Jason's hammer arm flinch. "I'm just back for a bit is all. I don't want to bite anyone. Nothing like that."
He cocks his head as he catches his breath and asks, "Does biting actually turn other people into zombies?"
"I don't know, I haven't done it yet," you answer. "I gotta admit I'm a little curious though."
Sensing your gaze upon his meaty forearms, Jason suggests, "You know who you should bite? Eric Zeller from high school. 'Member him?"
"God I effing hated that guy."
"He used to tape razor blades to the bottom of his shoes so he could pop all the soccer and kickballs during gym class. Made fun of the special needs kids all the time. What an asshole," Jason reams the former high school bully.
"Once during a food fight, the chem teacher gave him a detention for throwing an open carton of milk across the cafeteria and he threatened to kill him," you recall.
Jason raises an eyebrow. "Wasn't that chem teacher Mr. Rosen? Your dad?"
"Oooh, that's right," you scratch your head. "Eric Zeller definitely threatened to kill my dad."

A portly man steps out from behind a barricade across the street. "Ay! You kill the zombie yet?"
"It's not a zombie!" Jason shouts back. "It's just my buddy Rosen from high school!"
"Well you can talk to your creepy looking friend on your own time! Time to get back to work," the foreman calls to Jason before heading back on site.
"Goooood, my boss is such a dick," Jason whispers.
---

"I hear that," you nod in agreement.
"And if it weren't enough to have my boss up my ass at work, my wife jumps up my ass at home. Get this, last week she..." Jason trails off and looks away. "Ah it's not important."
"Tell me about it," you continue to riff about poor management. "My boss just won't listen to reason."
"You have a boss?" Jason asks. "But you're dead."
You try your hand at construction worker etiquette. "Yeah, it's this thirteen year old who unearthed my coffin and is so far up my bum, I can feel him in my throat."
"Eh," Jason winces, first for the underage bum comments, then because he looks like he's trying to summon the courage to bring something up.
"You alright Jason?"
"Yeah, yeah. It's just..." he takes off his hardhat and wipes some sweat from his brow. "Have you been to see Carrie yet?"
"Not yet," you tell him. "I've only been alive for a few hours."
"Really? I feel like if I died and came back to life, that'd be the first place I'd go."
"You'd go to see my wife?" you quiz him. "That's a little weird."
"No, I'd go to see my wife, dumbass. You know what I meant," he scolds you.
"How's she doing?" you ask him.
Jason bites his lip and shakes his head. "Last I heard, not so good. You left her pretty high and dry, yeah?"
"Yeah," you try to force a frown, but find how hard it is a little amusing and quickly have to stifle a laugh. Before Jason notices, you try to talk through the giggles. "I'll- I'll go see her after the job is done. Maybe. I don't know how long this is gonna take."
"What does this kid even have you doing?"
"He wants me to steal a yacht," you announce happily.
"Hmm," Jason rubs his chin. "Well it's not a yacht, but Eric Zeller's dad owns a houseboat down in the marina. Would that work?"
"It might," you think out loud. "Me killing his dad would kinda bring the Eric Zeller situation full circle too."
"Wait, did Eric actually kill your dad?" Jason asks confused.
"No, pancreatic cancer did. Although, Eric never did say how he was going to kill my dad-"
Jason shakes his head vigorously. "I don't think Eric gave your dad pancreatic cancer, Rosen."
"Ah, you're probably right. Might have to kill his dad anyway though," you declare.
"I thought you just needed his boat," Jason says concerned.
"Exactly. I need his boat, I don't really need him." You pat Jason on the arm and laugh. "Let's hope he behaves, huh? Can I get that hammer?"
"Uh, um..." Jason stutters as you grab the hammer from his grasp.
"Thanks, Jason."
"Aw fuck, my fingerprints are like all over that thing," Jason sighs.
"Don't worry, I'll say stole it from the site," you gleefully soothe his apprehension. "You better go back to work and beef up that alibi though. You're on the clock, Jason. So am I. It was great to see you!"
"No, maybe you shouldn't- oh shit," is all you can hear Jason say before the rest becomes incomprehensible mumbles. You see Jason's shoulders slouch as he pulls his hardhat over his face and crosses the street.

You have a hammer. You reach the marina and stand at the start of the docks. You quickly stop the first person you see, a shorter pudgy woman with gray curly hair who gasps at the sight of you.
You laugh and point at your face. "Oh this? I'm sorry, I know I must startle people. I'm an extra in a zombie movie. We were filming late last night and I have to be back on set in a couple hours, so I just decided to leave the make-up on," you explain.
---

"Oh, I see," she smiles. "Very realistic! It's amazing what they can do these days."
"Oh isn't it?" you agree cheerfully. "What is your name?"
"Marge," she answers.
"Marge, where did you get those teal crocs?" you motion to her feet. "Teal is my favorite color and crocs have always looked so comfortable. Are they as comfortable as they look?"
"Y-yes, they are!" she nods excitedly. "I got them at Marshall's."
"And what is that scent you're wearing? It suits you so well," you compliment.
"Well I just rubbed all the samples in the Marshall's catalogue on me," she tells you.
You inhale again. "Well it's delightful. Do that every day, Marge. Every sample in the Marshall's catalogue is your new perfume."
Marge smiles meekly. "You are very kind."
You put a hand on her shoulder. "Marge, do you know where I can find Mr. Zeller's houseboat? I'm a friend of his son's and Jason Burnett told me I might be able to find him here," you say absentmindedly.
"Ooh you mean Ed," Marge recognizes the name. "Take your first left, walk until you get to your third right, then his boat will be the last on the right of the dock."

You thank Marge and follow her instructions to Mr. Zeller's boat. He doesn't seem to be awake yet. You try to sneakily board his boat without his knowledge. You slowly step one leg over the side of his home, but trip when trying to bring the second over and make a hard fall onto his floor. The old man comes bustling out from his bedroom in his pajamas and shouts, "Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
You pick yourself up off the floor. "Sorry for the startle. These dead legs of mine aren't as coordinated as I'd like 'em to be."
"Well why don't you go ahead and flop back onto the dock?" Ed orders.
"Maybe in a minute, Ed. I got an offer you can't refuse," you tell him, still holding the hammer in your right hand. "I need you to give me and my master a ride."
"A ride? A ride to where?" he asks.
"I don't know. Someplace nautical."
"And who is your master?"
"I don't know. Some kid who calls himself Mills."
"So you want me to let you, a rotting corpse, and some kid into my home and take you to a place that you have no idea where it is," Ed makes sure he has all the available details.
"That's right," you confirm.
Ed adjusts his glasses. "Why would I ever agree to this?"
"Well, your son was pretty mean in high school. He was a real... bastard! Threatened to kill my dad and all. So I figured I'd find his dad, you can probably figure out the rest," you conclude.
Ed sighs deeply. "Look, I know Eric was difficult to be around in his younger days, but he's a lot better now if that means anything to you."
"It does not."
"Well I'm not taking you anywhere," Ed informs you.
"But I have a hammer," you argue.
"Well, I have a phone," Ed says as he takes his cell phone out of his pajama pocket. "And I'm calling the police."

"Geez Louise" you say disappointed. You suppose it's time to put this hammer to good use. Maybe Ed will become more reasonable after he takes a hammer bop to the shoulder. You take a step forward and swing the hammer with your clumsy, floppy arm at Ed Zeller's shoulder. Seeing the strike coming, Ed tries to duck it, but ends up taking the face of the hammer to the temple, caving in his skull and killing him instantly.
---

"Aw beans!" you exclaim as Ed's blood begins to puddle on the floor of his houseboat.
"Is everything alright?" you hear a voice call from the dock. You take a step back and see Marge on the dock. "I just came to make sure you found the place."
"That's so sweet! I'm so glad you're here," you tell her.
"So what's going on?" she asks. "Where's Ed?"
"Oh right! I really did it this time, Marge. You'll never believe it. I just did a murder!" you notify her.
"A- a murder?!" she blurts out.
"Yeah, unfortunately that's the case. I murdered Ed Zeller with this," you show Marge the bloody hammer. "Aw beans, Marge. What a pickle!"
Marge takes off screaming down the docks in her beautiful teal crocs.

What do you do?

A) Try another boat. Maybe the next inhabitant will be more agreeable.
B) Find Eric Zeller and explain that you've murdered his father. He sounds much more understanding now.
C) Bring Ed's body to Mills for resurrection.
D) Go to the cave without Ed and explain you've acquired a vessel.
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Good update. But honestly,

E) just take the boat like nothing happened and take it to Mills. These worldly ideals mean nothing to a dead person like you.
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C. Lets resurrect Ed!
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WaterLink posted...

Good update. But honestly,

E) just take the boat like nothing happened and take it to Mills. These worldly ideals mean nothing to a dead person like you.

Thanks!

And your E is basically what I intended D to be. I might not have worded it as clearly as I could have.
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B
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E. Murder marge and steal her beautiful crocs . Then D but with the body on the boat
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C. And B if possible.
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D/E (since they're both practically the same)
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HotLap posted...

WaterLink posted...

Good update. But honestly,

E) just take the boat like nothing happened and take it to Mills. These worldly ideals mean nothing to a dead person like you.

Thanks!

And your E is basically what I intended D to be. I might not have worded it as clearly as I could have.

Ok, then chalk me up for D, but with those parameters. >_>

Your work is brilliant by the way. Particularly the dialogue. I've tried to dabble in making stories of my own but the dialogue always gives me trouble but I like your style. And I kinda wanna go in that direction, but that's kinda the catch 22 because I dont wanna be the creative type ripping off of someone else ya know? But I do admire your work.
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D.

AssMuff has the best dialogue. It's just so vivid in my head. I hope to one day see an AssMuff movie.
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WaterLink posted...

I've tried to dabble in making stories of my own but the dialogue always gives me trouble

The one time I ever dabbled in writing I had the opposite problem. Dialogue came somewhat naturally to me, but everything else about writing was just like, what am I even doing, dude?! x.x
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Yeah. Like I have an overarching plot I kinda wanna do and some characters that are integral to it. It's just difficult for me to make them interact and talk the way I want them to. Part of it is just me being a perfectionist so rhere's always something I see wrong. I also have a problem coming up with names for the characters as minute as that sounds.
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WaterLink posted...

I also have a problem coming up with names for the characters as minute as that sounds.

I mean, pretty much everyone that's ever played an RPG where you name your character can relate to this lol. Not minute at all really, especially with characters that are expected to be actual characters.
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DC, bring the boat, and Ed's corpse to Mills.
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WaterLink posted...

Your work is brilliant by the way. Particularly the dialogue. I've tried to dabble in making stories of my own but the dialogue always gives me trouble but I like your style. And I kinda wanna go in that direction, but that's kinda the catch 22 because I dont wanna be the creative type ripping off of someone else ya know? But I do admire your work.

Thanks! I really appreciate it. Although I'm hardly the first to use this style, I'd say. As long as you find a way to make it your own, I say go for it. If it works, it works.

CM_Ponch posted...

AssMuff has the best dialogue. It's just so vivid in my head. I hope to one day see an AssMuff movie.

If this becomes a movie then you all get a writing credit. Personally I'm looking forward to an Oakman movie. I literally cried the first time I read it. Is that archived anywhere?

Kircheis posted...

The one time I ever dabbled in writing I had the opposite problem. Dialogue came somewhat naturally to me, but everything else about writing was just like, what am I even doing, dude?! x.x

This is me, 100%. That's why my stories are usually so dialogue heavy.
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HotLap posted...

Is that archived anywhere?

I think this is all that's left

http://pkmnponchocyoa-unedited-uncut-unhm01.blogspot.com/2009/08/cyoa-you-are-professor-oak.html?m=1
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@Doom_Art

Since you mentioned me in that CE History topic.
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bump
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C, then B.

Seeing his dad as a zombie might convince him to join us. We need a zombie posse going pronto.
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Update likely on Sunday.
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bump
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Bump
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Bum(p)
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HotLap posted...

Update likely on Sunday.

Liesump
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Bump for the muff
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I demand an update!
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I can't tonight and definitely can't Wednesday, so I'll try my best to get it done Tuesday.
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So Thursday then?
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This is just the AssMuff Method. I know that the price for the story is patience.

<3
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D) Go to the cave without Ed and explain you've acquired a vessel.

Marge's calls for help echo throughout the marina. You look down at Ed and see his head blood starting to approach your nice dress shoes. You sit on the edge of the boat to keep your feet dry. A seagull lands on the dock behind you and squawks. You turn to it and ask, "Do you want to eat Ed?"
The seagull looks up at you and screeches again.
"Alright, you don't have to if you don't want to," you shrug. "You think Mills will like this houseboat?"
"Skwaaaah!"
"I think so too. Mission accomplished, I guess. See in you heaven, birdo!" you exclaim as you stumble back onto the dock. As you walk away, you turn around and ask the bird, "Do you think Marge is mad?"
The seagull spreads its wings and takes off over the ocean.

As you reach the beginning of the docks, you can hear Marge's panicked cowering as she crouches behind a bench. "Hi!" you give her a friendly wave.
Marge does not return your greeting, but instead lets out a shrill yelp and moves to the other side of the bench to put the length of it between you two.
"Aww, Marge. I'm not gonna hurt you," you try to reassure her. "We're friends."
"We are NOT friends!" she shouts back. "You murdered Ed Zeller and the police are on their way here."
Shucks, she is mad, the seagull just didn't have the heart to tell you. "I'll never let the cops take me alive," you joke.
Marge doesn't laugh.
"Y'know, because I'm already-"
"I have a gun!" she interrupts you. "And I know how to use it!"
"You don't have a gun, Marge," you sigh.
"I sure do, f-fucko!" Marge chokes out as she shoves her hand aggressively into the pocket of her windbreaker.
You shake your head. "That's just your hand."
"No it's not!"
"Did you get that windbreaker at Marshall's?" you ask her.
Her eyes are dead set on you. She's hardly even blinking. "It... It doesn't matter!"
"Did you though?"
"Yes!" she blurts out, a tear falling from her squint against her will.
"Did you get the gun from Marshall's too?" you press her.
"No."
"Where'd you get the gun?"
"The gun store," she answers.
You give her a sideways glance. "There's no gun, Marge."
"Yes there is!"
"If you need something to protect yourself with, I can give you this hammer," you offer.
"The murder weapon?" she asks, still haunted by the blood and brains on the end of it. "Are you kidding me?"
"Yeah, I suppose you're right," you concede. "Well, I gotta go Marge. Sorry about killing your friend."
"You're not going anywhere until the police get here," she raises her windbreaker pocket to be pointed at your head.
"But I have to. I said I was sorry, Marge," you protest.
"You're not sorry," she scolds you.
"No, not really," you admit. "But I feel like that's just something people say. Don't worry though, I'll be back soon."
"What?" she asks fearfully.
"Yeah, I have to go grab this young teenage boy that I know, then we're going to come back to Ed's boat, probably dump Ed into the ocean, and head out to sea," you inform her. "I'm leaving you in charge of Ed's boat, Marge. Don't let anyone else take it while I'm gone."
Marge is too stunned to speak.
"Hehe, Marge in charge," you giggle. "That rhymes. You want to play the rhyming game? I'll go first. Balloon."
"Shut up!" she demands.
You shake your head. "Not even close. Like way off."
---

You leave Marge to her own devices and begin the walk back to Mills' cave. Right as you get back to the construction site, you hear police sirens in the distance. You pop into the site to avoid detection as the cruisers go by.
The foreman who shouted at Jason spots you. "Hey! What are you doing? You can't be back here."
"I just needed to return this hammer to Jason," you tell him.
The foreman's brow furrows. "He let you borrow a company hammer?"
"Yeah, but it's no big deal. I'm bringing it back, see?"
"What's all that on the end of it? Is that blood?" he asks.
"No, it's just dried paint," you lie.
You can see Jason drop some lumber on the ground and race over to the two of you. "Hey hey hey, sorry chief! I'll take care of this."
"Loaning out hammers, Burnett? That's strike two," he warns, putting two fingers to his eyes then pointing at Jason's before walking away.

"Dude you are going to get me fired," he whispers to you.
"What's the big deal? I brought it back. Here - catch," you toss the hammer to Jason who grabs it on instinct.
He looks at the red smears on the face of it and groans, "God dammit, what is all this?"
"That is Mr. Zeller's blood and brains," you confirm his worst fears.
"What? No. What? No no no-," he starts to mutter.
You start to talk loudly over his stammers, "And since you did provide me the hammer, that does make you an accomplice I th-."
Jason quickly covers your mouth with his hand and seethes through gritted teeth, "Shut the fuck up! Oh shit, shit, okay. I just need time to think."
You pull your mouth away from his hand. "Wow Jason, you're sweating so much!"
"Shut up, Rosen! Fuck you, man!" he shoves you. "I hadn't seen you in years before you died! You're alive for a few hours and you come and fuck up my life? What the hell?"
"Ah, come on Jason," you playfully punch him on the arm. "We're friends, dude."
"We are NOT friends!" Jason corrects you. "I saw you like twice in the ten years since we graduated."
"Did you go to my funeral, Jason?" you ask him.
Jason exhales in frustration. "Yeah, I mean-"
"Aaaaah, yeah I got you. We're friends." You call out to the nearest construction worker. "Hey! This guy's my friend!"
"Don't fucking talk to him!" Jason commands. "Don't talk to anybody. I went to your funeral because your wife and my wife are friends. That's it. Our wives, not us. Now listen, did you mention my name at all down at the docks?"
"I don't think so," you say. "I... I can't really remember."
"Focus, Rosen. This is important." He grabs you by the shoulders. "You have to remember."
"No, I didn't," you conclude after like one second of introspection. "What reason would I have to mention your name?"
Jason lets out a sigh of relief. "Okay good." He quickly puts his sleeve over his hand and runs it up and down the handle of the hammer before thrusting it back to you. "Now get rid of this. Burn it, bury it, put it in your coffin, I don't care. Just make sure no one ever finds it."
"I'll do it on one condition," you say.
"Oh god, what is it?"
"What did you bring for lunch today?"
"A ham and cheese sandwich," he answers.
"Alright, I want your sandwich," you tell him.
"What? You're dead. What do you need a sandwich for?" he demands.
"That's my price," you ignore the question. "If you want the hammer gone, I want the sandwich."
"Whate- okay. Okay. Fine, whatever," he trips through his acceptance.
---

Jason leaves for a few moments before returning with his lunch in a ziploc bag. "Here."
"Thanks," you smile. "As I said before, it was really good to see you, Jason."
Jason inhales sharply as he bites his lower lip. "Get. Out. Of. Here."

You duck your head around the barricade and can no longer hear any sirens. You quickly cross the street and make your way back into the cemetery. You can see some early morning grievers have come to pay their respects to their loved ones. You decide to stick to the edge of the graveyard to not attract attention. Soon you reach the entrance to the path Mills led you down and head into the forest.

The stroll through the woods is just as magical as your sunrise expedition, but for different reasons. You see chipmunks skitter across the tree branches and rabbits hop along the edges of some brush. In the dim morning light, you couldn't see the rotting stump that was just covered in bird crap. It's like someone had painted it. You even spot an empty plastic nip of vodka on the path. The forest is a truly wondrous place.

Soon you find yourself at the mouth of Mills' cave. "Alright," you whisper as you take Jason's sandwich out of the bag. As you make your way through the cave, you rip off small pieces of the sandwich and drop them on the ground behind you. The cave path winds to the left, then back to the right a couple times. As you come around a bend, you see light emanating from an electric lantern on the cave floor. "Mills?" you call out.
Mills emerges from the darkness of the cave wall, his black hood resting down by his shoulders. You're surprised you couldn't see his hair through the darkness. "Slim? You're back already?"
"Yup," you announce proudly.
Mills spots the mostly torn apart sandwich in your hands. "Leaving a trail Hansel and Gretel style, huh? This cave only has one path, but I have to say I'm impressed by your resourcefulness."
"Oh, this isn't so I could find my way out," you correct him. "This is for the bears. If the bears come, they'll be too distracted eating the sandwich, and we can escape."
Mills lets out a disappointed sigh. "Or it's a path of food that entices bears into the cave and leads them right to us."
"Ooooh haha," you chuckle. "You know, that's probably way more likely to happen than my thing."
"Jesus, okay. So is this all you've been doing? Trying to protect me from bears when I asked you not to?" Mills demands.
"Not at all. I have good news and gooder news," you report.
"Alright, give me the good news first," Mills requests.
"I killed a man with this," you show Mills the hammer. You point to a grey lump surrounded by red. "I think this is part of his brain."
Mills stares at Ed's brain chunk, his breath growing more rapid until he turns around and hurls onto the cave floor.
"Haha eww," you laugh. "Barfing is fun though, mad respect."
Mills wipes his mouth before asking exasperatedly, "You killed someone?"
"Mmhmm," you nod. "I killed an old man."
"Why?" Mills demands.
"You told me to not be afraid to get my hands dirty. It's kill or be killed. That's what you told me," you answer.
"I absolutely did not tell you that," Mills denies.
"Um, I'm pretty sure you did," you argue. "You told me all about how you stabbed girls from a rival sorority."
"What?!" Mills shout echoes through the cave.
"Oooooh," it suddenly dawns on you. "You're right, that definitely wasn't you. It was that sorority girl I met at a bus stop. Man, what a hilarious misunderstanding."
---