Fixing Good CYOA
03-26-2024, 10:06 PM
The next morning, you’re back in Paul Hoodman’s office after having called in sick to work. You’re not the only one to have made sacrifices for this to happen, as Hoodman apparently cleared out his entire morning of clients.
You start putting on the protective gear while the lawyer explains the remaining details, practically buzzing with excitement. “The mark is a middle aged Caucasian woman, driving a silver Rolls-Royce. You know what those look like? The car, I mean. I assume you know what a woman looks like, ha ha ha.” You don’t laugh along with him.
He pats you on the back. “Lighten up, that was a joke! Anyway, it’s a four door sedan with a big square grill on the front, painted all silver like my suit here.” Paul is dressed up nicer than usual, his suit jacket indeed bearing a shiny silver pattern.
“You’ll be intercepting her at Broad Street, right before the intersection with Daisy. It’s only a few blocks from here, you can walk. One last thing: here’s my secret ingredient to making a realistic looking injury.”
He takes out a few plastic packets filled with red liquid. “This here is fake blood, got it straight from the same people that supply Hollywood. Movie magic! You slip this under your knee pad, then when you fall, make sure to land on that knee. It’ll instantly burst and squirt ‘blood’ everywhere!”
After securing the blood packets in your right knee pad, the two of you leave the office and go your separate ways: you to Broad Street, and Paul to watching the mark, wherever that is.
Your nerves are at an all time high as you push the scooter along on foot, thinking about all the things that could go wrong. You feel the blood packets pressed against your knee. What if they burst too early, and you’re left walking around with a fake bloody mess? What if the car hits you and breaks your leg for real? You can’t even walk then.
You arrive at the intersection of Broad and Daisy, thankfully without any issues. It seems pretty quiet, not too many people around.
The pink flip phone rings, and you answer. “Two minute warning,” Paul’s voice chimes. “Get ready.”
Oh boy. You put one foot on the scooter and look down the road where the mark will be coming from.
After what seems like an eternity, you spot a silver Rolls Royce sedan rounding the corner onto Broad Street. The tint on the windows obscures your view of the driver, but this must be it.
Your heart is racing as you scoot out into the road, the tiny wheels rattling along the pavement.
HOOOOONK! The car’s horn roars as it rushes towards you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.
![[Image: 2c3b3c59-4470-4258-8338-9ece71a38c1f.jpg]](https://i.ibb.co/Dw9yHqW/2c3b3c59-4470-4258-8338-9ece71a38c1f.jpg)
Huh, it doesn’t look like it’s slowing down at all. Do you...
A. Stick to the plan and try to stop right on the edge of the car’s path.
B. Lunge forward into the path, gotta make it look real.
C. hicken out and run away. This isn’t worth risking your life over!
You start putting on the protective gear while the lawyer explains the remaining details, practically buzzing with excitement. “The mark is a middle aged Caucasian woman, driving a silver Rolls-Royce. You know what those look like? The car, I mean. I assume you know what a woman looks like, ha ha ha.” You don’t laugh along with him.
He pats you on the back. “Lighten up, that was a joke! Anyway, it’s a four door sedan with a big square grill on the front, painted all silver like my suit here.” Paul is dressed up nicer than usual, his suit jacket indeed bearing a shiny silver pattern.
“You’ll be intercepting her at Broad Street, right before the intersection with Daisy. It’s only a few blocks from here, you can walk. One last thing: here’s my secret ingredient to making a realistic looking injury.”
He takes out a few plastic packets filled with red liquid. “This here is fake blood, got it straight from the same people that supply Hollywood. Movie magic! You slip this under your knee pad, then when you fall, make sure to land on that knee. It’ll instantly burst and squirt ‘blood’ everywhere!”
After securing the blood packets in your right knee pad, the two of you leave the office and go your separate ways: you to Broad Street, and Paul to watching the mark, wherever that is.
Your nerves are at an all time high as you push the scooter along on foot, thinking about all the things that could go wrong. You feel the blood packets pressed against your knee. What if they burst too early, and you’re left walking around with a fake bloody mess? What if the car hits you and breaks your leg for real? You can’t even walk then.
You arrive at the intersection of Broad and Daisy, thankfully without any issues. It seems pretty quiet, not too many people around.
The pink flip phone rings, and you answer. “Two minute warning,” Paul’s voice chimes. “Get ready.”
Oh boy. You put one foot on the scooter and look down the road where the mark will be coming from.
After what seems like an eternity, you spot a silver Rolls Royce sedan rounding the corner onto Broad Street. The tint on the windows obscures your view of the driver, but this must be it.
Your heart is racing as you scoot out into the road, the tiny wheels rattling along the pavement.
HOOOOONK! The car’s horn roars as it rushes towards you, raising the hairs on the back of your neck.
A. Stick to the plan and try to stop right on the edge of the car’s path.
B. Lunge forward into the path, gotta make it look real.
C. hicken out and run away. This isn’t worth risking your life over!
