You stop worrying about the etymology of the word CROWBAR. Instead, you grip LISA THE LUG WRENCH tightly as KATH drives with what you assume is wild abandon to the KIBBLER COOKIES FACTORY.
"We're here!" KATH says.
"Already?" you say.
"Come on," she says and gets out of the car. "Time to beat some ELVES."
You try out several motivational one liners in order to follow her: LET'S KICK THE TIRES AND LIGHT THE FIRES, THIS IS MY BOOMSTICK, GO AHEAD MAKE MY DAY, I KICK ASS FOR THE LORD, SAY HELLO TO MY LITTLE FRIEND, DODGE THIS, GET AWAY FROM HER YOU BITCH, DEAD OR ALIVE YOU'RE COMING WITH ME, and SMILE YOU SON OF A BITCH.
None of them work to motivate you. Still, the thought of KATH thinking you are a coward (combined with the fact that staying ALONE outside an evil factory is probably just as dangerous as going inside) pushes you to get out and follow her.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and YOU FORGOT "LET'S SHOW THIS PREHISTORIC BITCH HOW WE DO THINGS DOWNTOWN."
What do you want to do?
>ASK IF WE HAVE ANY KIND OF WEAPONRY BEFORE SHE REALISES WHAT WE JUST SAID.
At the mention of the word "weaponry," KATH THE HOT REDHEAD turns to you and grins.
"Oh yes," she says. "The only thing that works against ELVES is COLD IRON. Look in the back seat."
You turn to the back seat and see it: a CROWBAR. It's old and battered and looks like it has BARRED many CROWS (if this is the etymology of the word).
"That's my baby," KATH says. "I call it ELFCRUSHER." You must admit, that does sound like an awesome name.
"That's cool," you say. "Is there another crowbar I can use?"
KATH's grin slowly fades as she stops the car. "Hold on one second," she says as she gets out. You can hear her opening the trunk and rummaging through, saying things like "No," "That won't do," and "That's just a curling iron, not cold iron." Finally, she walks back to the car door and hands you something.
It is a LUG WRENCH. It doesn't look like an ELFCRUSHER. So instead you name it LISA.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and WHAT IS THE ETYMOLOGY OF CROWBAR ANYWAY?
What do you want to do?
"Oh yes," she says. "The only thing that works against ELVES is COLD IRON. Look in the back seat."
You turn to the back seat and see it: a CROWBAR. It's old and battered and looks like it has BARRED many CROWS (if this is the etymology of the word).
"That's my baby," KATH says. "I call it ELFCRUSHER." You must admit, that does sound like an awesome name.
"That's cool," you say. "Is there another crowbar I can use?"
KATH's grin slowly fades as she stops the car. "Hold on one second," she says as she gets out. You can hear her opening the trunk and rummaging through, saying things like "No," "That won't do," and "That's just a curling iron, not cold iron." Finally, she walks back to the car door and hands you something.
It is a LUG WRENCH. It doesn't look like an ELFCRUSHER. So instead you name it LISA.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and WHAT IS THE ETYMOLOGY OF CROWBAR ANYWAY?
What do you want to do?
>SHE SAID LOOK AT IT. SO LET'S LOOKIT THAT MAP S'MORE.
You look at the map some more. At the bottom of the map is written KIBBLER COOKIES INC. The map itself is helpfully labeled with such rooms as COOKIE PROCESSING ROOM, COOKIE TESTING ROOM, CONVEYER BELTS OF DOOM ROOM, and RANDOM CRUSHING MACHINES ROOM. You close your eyes and sigh.
>ALSO, ASK HOW SCREWED WE ARE AGAINST ELVES.
"It all depends," KATH says, "on what type of elves we are up against. There are three types:
"One: your STANDARD ELVES. These guys are a snap. Easy to beat.
"Two: your MIDDLE MANAGEMENT ELVES. These guys are tougher - they have magic called crackle that can hurt like the dickens.
"And three: your BOSS ELVES. These guys are the worst - they can pop up anywhere."
You ponder her words for a minute and then say, "So our choices are snap, crackle, or pop?"
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and THAT WAS BAD. JUST BAD.
What do you want to do?
>ALSO, ASK HOW SCREWED WE ARE AGAINST ELVES.
"It all depends," KATH says, "on what type of elves we are up against. There are three types:
"One: your STANDARD ELVES. These guys are a snap. Easy to beat.
"Two: your MIDDLE MANAGEMENT ELVES. These guys are tougher - they have magic called crackle that can hurt like the dickens.
"And three: your BOSS ELVES. These guys are the worst - they can pop up anywhere."
You ponder her words for a minute and then say, "So our choices are snap, crackle, or pop?"
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and THAT WAS BAD. JUST BAD.
What do you want to do?
>ASK IF THERE'S ANYTHING YOU CAN DO RIGHT NOW.
"Sure," she says. "Could you take a look at this?" She hands you a piece of paper that has been folded several times.
You carefully unfold it (still wondering if perhaps you should ask for clarification on whether it was ELVES or ELVIS) and see that it's a map. A map of a GIANT FACTORY.
"That's the last place I know the ELVES were at," she says (and now you're sure she said ELVES). "That's where we're going."
"Um," you say, "not to disagree with you or anything, but...why would ELVES take away the internet?"
"Why?" she says. "For the COOKIES. What else?"
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and STILL IN A MOVING VEHICLE SORRY.
What do you want to do?
You carefully unfold it (still wondering if perhaps you should ask for clarification on whether it was ELVES or ELVIS) and see that it's a map. A map of a GIANT FACTORY.
"That's the last place I know the ELVES were at," she says (and now you're sure she said ELVES). "That's where we're going."
"Um," you say, "not to disagree with you or anything, but...why would ELVES take away the internet?"
"Why?" she says. "For the COOKIES. What else?"
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and STILL IN A MOVING VEHICLE SORRY.
What do you want to do?
>STOP YOUR WORRYING AND OBEY HER ORDER, SHE SAID TO "GET IN."
Since she hasn't said anything, you think you can safely assume that your faux pas can be ignored. You get into KATH THE HOT REDHEAD'S CAR.
As cars go, it's comfortable. You think about nicknaming the CAR, but you realize that KATH might already have a name for it and you nicknaming it would be an even further faux pas. You also realize that you like the phrase faux pas. It's one of the few French phrases that's fun to say.
It's then that KATH THE HOT REDHEAD really starts driving the car. Quickling buckling your seatbelt (another lesson from MOM), you notice that KATH seems to drive like not only is there NO TOMORROW, but also if there is a tomorrow, she really really does not want to see it.
You close your eyes and ask, "So, about this lead you have?"
"Oh yeah," KATH says. "I'm a PI and I was investigating some corporate espionage between ISPs when I heard about it."
"Terrorists?" you tentatively ask. "Foreign spys? Aliens?"
"No," she says. "Worse: ELVES."
You think for a moment that you misheard her, that perhaps the speed of the car made her words come out differently. She didn't say ELVES, you rationalize, she said ELVIS. ELVIS has returned and stolen the internet. Yes, that must be it.
Of course, an UNDEAD ELVIS may or may not be worse that actual ELVES.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and YOU'RE INSIDE A MOVING VEHICLE YOU CAN'T GO IN ANY OF THOSE DIRECTIONS.
What do you want to do?
As cars go, it's comfortable. You think about nicknaming the CAR, but you realize that KATH might already have a name for it and you nicknaming it would be an even further faux pas. You also realize that you like the phrase faux pas. It's one of the few French phrases that's fun to say.
It's then that KATH THE HOT REDHEAD really starts driving the car. Quickling buckling your seatbelt (another lesson from MOM), you notice that KATH seems to drive like not only is there NO TOMORROW, but also if there is a tomorrow, she really really does not want to see it.
You close your eyes and ask, "So, about this lead you have?"
"Oh yeah," KATH says. "I'm a PI and I was investigating some corporate espionage between ISPs when I heard about it."
"Terrorists?" you tentatively ask. "Foreign spys? Aliens?"
"No," she says. "Worse: ELVES."
You think for a moment that you misheard her, that perhaps the speed of the car made her words come out differently. She didn't say ELVES, you rationalize, she said ELVIS. ELVIS has returned and stolen the internet. Yes, that must be it.
Of course, an UNDEAD ELVIS may or may not be worse that actual ELVES.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and YOU'RE INSIDE A MOVING VEHICLE YOU CAN'T GO IN ANY OF THOSE DIRECTIONS.
What do you want to do?
>SAY YES STUPID. Specifically, say "Yes." Don't say "Yes, stupid." Oh god, that's the opposite of what we want to do.
You say "Yes," then thankfully cut yourself off before you say "stupid." You congratulate yourself when KATH THE HOT REDHEAD opens up the passanger door and says, "Get in then."
Unbidden, another piece of advice from your MOTHER comes to you (alongside "always look both ways" and "always wear clean underpants"): never accept rides from STRANGERS.
Now, you know her name and that she is a very HOT REDHEAD, but besides that, KATH is a STRANGER. For all you know, she could be a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN -- you need to test her to make sure she is not a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN.
(In your mind, if she fails the test, she will then applaud your deductive skills, admit to being a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN, then explain that she is, in fact, a GOOD FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN, out to stop the rest of the FOREIGN SPIES and/or ALIENS and has chosen you to help her because of your excellent deductive skills. You know this is very far-fetched, but still: it would be awesome.)
"So," you say, ready to begin the test, "how about them...sports?" Suddenly, it occurs to you that, in fact, you know nothing about sports. A better test might have been knowing all the words to the Star-Spangled Banner, but the only ones you can remember are "dawn's early light." (You can be reasonably sure that you yourself are not a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN, simply due to the fact that if you were, your life would be less boring.)
KATH THE HOT REDHEAD arches one eyebrow in a gesture that says three words and a question mark.
This has not gone as planned.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and SMOOTH MOVE REAL SMOOTH.
What do you want to do?
Unbidden, another piece of advice from your MOTHER comes to you (alongside "always look both ways" and "always wear clean underpants"): never accept rides from STRANGERS.
Now, you know her name and that she is a very HOT REDHEAD, but besides that, KATH is a STRANGER. For all you know, she could be a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN -- you need to test her to make sure she is not a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN.
(In your mind, if she fails the test, she will then applaud your deductive skills, admit to being a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN, then explain that she is, in fact, a GOOD FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN, out to stop the rest of the FOREIGN SPIES and/or ALIENS and has chosen you to help her because of your excellent deductive skills. You know this is very far-fetched, but still: it would be awesome.)
"So," you say, ready to begin the test, "how about them...sports?" Suddenly, it occurs to you that, in fact, you know nothing about sports. A better test might have been knowing all the words to the Star-Spangled Banner, but the only ones you can remember are "dawn's early light." (You can be reasonably sure that you yourself are not a FOREIGN SPY and/or ALIEN, simply due to the fact that if you were, your life would be less boring.)
KATH THE HOT REDHEAD arches one eyebrow in a gesture that says three words and a question mark.
This has not gone as planned.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and SMOOTH MOVE REAL SMOOTH.
What do you want to do?
> WHOA HOT REDHEAD
"Whoa," you intone Keanu-like. It is not your finest moment.
"You're name is WHOA?" KATH THE HOT REDHEAD asks. "That's kind of a weird name, but whatever. Anyway, you look like a nice ageless, faceless, gender-neutral, culturally ambiguous adventure person, so I'm going to tell you something: I have a lead on what happened to the internet. Do you want to help me?"
You can feel the future unfolding like one of those metal chairs they hit people with in wrestling. And like those metal chairs, the future looks sleek and shiny and awesome. And it looks like it can hurt.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and SAY YES STUPID.
What do you want to do?
"You're name is WHOA?" KATH THE HOT REDHEAD asks. "That's kind of a weird name, but whatever. Anyway, you look like a nice ageless, faceless, gender-neutral, culturally ambiguous adventure person, so I'm going to tell you something: I have a lead on what happened to the internet. Do you want to help me?"
You can feel the future unfolding like one of those metal chairs they hit people with in wrestling. And like those metal chairs, the future looks sleek and shiny and awesome. And it looks like it can hurt.
Directions are: NORTH, EAST, SOUTH, WEST, and SAY YES STUPID.
What do you want to do?
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