It Ain't Easy Being Green... and Red... and Blue...
It's a closed room; another closed room.
You hate closed rooms. Now somebody's locked you in a closed room again and told you to try on pretty costumes. That's never a good thing.
If only you'd kept your knife. But it's gone, stolen, swiped; probably hocked at some two-bit pawn shop halfway down the avenue of Broke and Down.
Ah, your head... too many drinks... which beverage it's too much of is your choice. Was this all just some beverage-induced delirium?
But no time for that now. Now's the time to think, to get out, to make a plan.
The room's bare; it's got the costumes, and a pool of water in the middle. That's all. Is there anything you can use as a weapon? No, nothing.
Whoo, head rush. You sit down, only to find you've plunged your hand into a rubber flipper, green in color.
The transformation comes on too fast! The fins *schlorp* over your shoes and hands, turning them into huge webbed extremities. Your belly turns white and broadens as your legs gain more muscle than all get-out! Luckily your clothes are preserved by your diminishing size.
"CROOOOOAK!" Your mouth widens, your face pushes forward, your hair disappears, and your eyes swell and move to the top of your flattening skull. Then it's over, leaving you a three-foot-high, anthropomorphic tree frog.
Like a strand of spaghetti you're sucked into the pool in the center, now a raging whirlpool. When you come to you're in the middle of a hot, humid jungle, and it's raining like the Great Flood's come again. You're somewhere tropical, presumably a rainforest.
You want to make sense of this? You've got ten days.
Written by Mr.Peaches on 21 November 2006
The end (for now)