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CHAPTER 1
Your name is Drug Piccolo. You are escaping into a new town, Logton, to flee the police after being caught doing numerous crimes, including but not limited to: opening people up and flipping their organs.
You walk past the gates. They are chain link, and barbed wire sits on the top. Some light blue sparks fly off of the wire as it begins glowing the same sinister color, really putting the ‘wire’ in ‘barbed wire’. If you still don’t get it, the wire is electrified to a similar extent as a common household bug zapper. That is because it is made of scrapped bug zapper parts. The town of Logton used to be home to a large bug zapper factory, and whoever ordered the fence to be built must not have wanted to waste good money on building a proper, nonhazardous electric fence.
The gates give way into a brick alleyway. Some woman, alone, stands before you in a blue silk dress, definitely stolen. “You are here for the sauce,” she says. “Everyone comes for the sauce.”
You are about to ask, “What sauce?” when a large billboard catches your eye from further down the alley. ‘BEST SAUCE,’ it read. You feel relieved, as sucking on bones without any sauce would be a chore. If you ever suck a bone, for whatever reason.
Down the road, there is a hotel. Behind you is a future where you spend your life in jail. Which do you choose?
« Go Back Your name is Drug Piccolo. You are escaping into a new town, Logton, to flee the police after being caught doing numerous crimes, including but not limited to: opening people up and flipping their organs.
You walk past the gates. They are chain link, and barbed wire sits on the top. Some light blue sparks fly off of the wire as it begins glowing the same sinister color, really putting the ‘wire’ in ‘barbed wire’. If you still don’t get it, the wire is electrified to a similar extent as a common household bug zapper. That is because it is made of scrapped bug zapper parts. The town of Logton used to be home to a large bug zapper factory, and whoever ordered the fence to be built must not have wanted to waste good money on building a proper, nonhazardous electric fence.
The gates give way into a brick alleyway. Some woman, alone, stands before you in a blue silk dress, definitely stolen. “You are here for the sauce,” she says. “Everyone comes for the sauce.”
You are about to ask, “What sauce?” when a large billboard catches your eye from further down the alley. ‘BEST SAUCE,’ it read. You feel relieved, as sucking on bones without any sauce would be a chore. If you ever suck a bone, for whatever reason.
Down the road, there is a hotel. Behind you is a future where you spend your life in jail. Which do you choose?