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Random AiE CYOA (June 5th, 2012)

By: HeshieokFasla on Jun 5th, 2012  |  syntax: None  |  size: 3.87 KB  |  hits: 342  |  expires: Never
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  1. (AN: Cool beans is Skype Chat)
  2.  
  3. >Wake up. You are Anonymous.
  4. >Walk downstairs after finishing your morning routine.
  5. >You yawn, still somewhat tired.
  6. >You glance into your living room, finding a blanket hiding something.
  7. >You shrug, ignoring the creature on your couch.
  8. >It'll wake up later on its own and then you can do whatever.
  9. >Instead you go to your kitchen, producing a BLT.
  10. >Sadly, since Ponies dont have bacon you have to put extra L.
  11. >You eat your sandwich. Its still good.
  12. >You check the clock; you have a few hours before you need to go to work.
  13. >You shrug, heading back to your living room, taking a seat in your armchair.
  14. >You figure you'll do what does best: Fap!
  15. >However it occurs to you that you aren't alone in the room.
  16. >Carefully you approach the covered figure, grabbing onto the edge of the blanket.
  17. >You peel it off the pony in question, revealing it.
  18. >She murmers in her sleep.
  19. >Why is Gilda in your house?
  20. >You head back to your kitchen, fetching a bucket.
  21. >Placing it into under your sink and fill it.
  22. >You make sure the water is very, very cold.
  23. >You bring it over to the gryphon on your couch and slowly pour it onto her.
  24. >It squawks, immediately awakening as you continue the stream of liquid.
  25. >"Hey! What the fuck!"
  26. "Hey. What's up?"
  27. >She glares furiously at you, brandishing her claws.
  28. "Gilda, why are you in my fucking house."
  29. >"Who asked you, dweeb? I can sleep where I want!"
  30. >You roll your eyes. Who the hell did she think you were.
  31. >You reach into your pockets, pulling out a pair of orange shades. You put them on.
  32. >Gilda gets off your couch, shaking herself off. It isn't all that effective.
  33. "Gilda, get out of my house.
  34. >She glares at you, "How about you get out of /my/ house, dweeb?"
  35. "Gilda I've been living here for almost a year. Please go."
  36. >She screeches at you, lunging forward.
  37. >Someone is clearly having their period.
  38. >Oh well. You are too manly to fall for this.
  39. >Using an indescribable Kung Furate technique you end up holding her in place, a hand on her throat and another holding both of her claws in awkward angles.
  40. >"Alright alright I give! Let go!"
  41. >You grin deviously, "Not until I get my info."
  42. >She frowns, glaring back at you, "What the fuck do you want from me?"
  43. "Why are you in my fucking house, Gilda?"
  44. >"Because it's mine! I have the deed and everything!"
  45. "Where?"
  46. >"In my bag! Beside the couch! Let me go damnit!"
  47. >You glance over to your couch. Indeed there is a bag with a color scheme matching the gryphon.
  48. >You push the gryphon forward, dumping her onto the floor.
  49. "Get the Bag."
  50. >You have a hand on her leg, making it impossible for her to stand properly.
  51. >She growls back at you, but complies, reaching over to the bag.
  52. >She takes it in her claws.
  53. "Now where's the deed?"
  54. >"Deed this, fucker!"
  55. >She pulls out a Glock from the bag, firing it at you. It clips your glasses, shattering the entire construct.
  56. >However she has only one round as the gun clicks on the next trigger pull.
  57. >You shake your head disapprovingly, orange glass tumbling off of you.
  58. "You shouldn't have done that."
  59. >You twist the leg you are holding, causing her to yell out in pain, dropping her glock.
  60. >You take this moment to kick her square in the crotch with a free leg.
  61. >You drop the girl, she reaching down to protect her damage nethers.
  62. >Oh well, whatever.
  63. >You pick up the unloaded glock, then her bag.
  64. >There's ammunition inside the bag, so you load the gun.
  65. >There's also the deed, but that doesnt mean shit if she's dead.
  66. >You point the gun into the back of her head.
  67. >"W-Wait, don't shoot!"
  68. "Get out of here STALKER."
  69. >You fire the gun.
  70. >However its one of those weird chinese backwards-on-every-other-shot guns.
  71. >The bullet flies into your face, flying right through. Armor piercing rounds...?
  72. >You stumble backwards as spaghetti falls out of the hole in your face.
  73. "Personally, I prefer Linguine."
  74. >You fall over, dead.
  75.  
  76. >ANON IS DEAD
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