The GM is Bored Again

A letter appears. It reads:

To *NAME*

Your interest in friendship with Fate has been noted. Please fill in the attached form and deliver it to your local postal service, and request it be sent to the Mythical file. If the postal worker stares at you blankly, say, "where the Santa letters go."

Please note, the current waiting period for mythical delivery is estimated at: 1 LIFETIME.

We appreciate your interest.

Sincerely

Skoloraf Faroloks
Secretary

WotToF Co

return to moon base

You step outside. You find yourself standing on the edge of a huge crater. At the bottom, you see the remains of a futuristic building.

explore building

You descend into the crater. Fragments of walls are scattered around like dislodged scales from a reptile. You approach the only intact segment. finding the door ajar, you manage to pry it open, and enter.

You are in a slanted room.

look

You observe the rounded walls made of some futuristic material. It's warped in a few places, but otherwise intact.

There are a few openable panels in various places along the wall. Each bearing a label, including "Shock Hazard", "Trained Personnel Only", "Do Not Touch" and "GHSTRH".

open shock hazard

touch shock hazard

You yank open one of the panels, and thrust your hand inside. Your hand meets a flat surface. which starts to display a fancy light show around your hand. The word 'scanning' appears.

After a minute, the word 'complete' appears below the word 'scanning'.

After removing your hand. the following text appears:

YOU HAVE

0

DAYS TO LIVE

scan foot

You plant your bare foot against the scanner. The process repeats, and the following text appears:

YOU HAVE

-5

DAYS TO LIVE

confront scanner about contradiction

You demand an explanaition. The scanner must have heard you somehow, as it responds with the following text:

SECOND SCAN DETECTED

INCREASED SIGNS OF

DECOMPOSITION IN

AIR SURROUNDING SECOND SUBJECT

reverse air decomposition

SYNTAX ERROR - DECOMPOSITION IN AIR, NOT OF AIR.

Also, feel free to elaborate.

The man sat at his keyboard, about to type "reverse decomposition in air" but then he realized that there was a slight smell in the room. He began to wonder, what if the decomposition wasn't just in the game? Later, when he came to his senses, he'd resolve not to mix recreational drugs and text adventures.

.......I'm.....happy, for you?

This thread is sufficiantly trippy on it's own.

The man's high had worn off, because he only existed on a message board and a full day had passed since his last action, and for some reason in this universe drugs wear off in real time but thought only occurs when some other people in another universe say some things. He paused for a moment, stared at his keyboard, and typed in "scan elbow." He chuckled to himself.

You scan your elbow. the results are the same as the first scan.

ALERT

multi-planer metanarrative abstraction detected.

Hardware requiremnets growing exponentially over time.

Cascade event imminent.

The man briefly pondered the meaning of the words scrolling across his screen, before deciding this game was just too confusing. He was a simple man. The fact that he was a simple man would seem to clash with the idea that he was playing a text-based game, which tend to be limited to antique computer hobbyists, who tend not to be simple. However, due to the lack of foresight by someone else typing on another keyboard in another universe, both were true. He didn't care. He was a simple man.

The simple man meant to type "exit" before getting up from his computer and going to bed, but his finger slipped, and instead, he typed "exist".

Another man in a world seperate to one but the same as another, chuckles at an internet post. He feels that someone is overthinking things. Especially since the idea of one person telling a story based on input from another is not limited to computers, antique or otherwise. Another man eats his dinner completely unaware of the men and their attempts at humour and metanarrative, knowing only that everyone must die some day.

CRITICAL MASS ACHIEVEDSAFETY PROTOCOL ENGAGED

TERMINATE ANOMALY

You are suddenly erased from the universe.

You are not in a room.

Another man wishes he had some brilliant metanarrative grenade that would blow someone else's mind. He pushes the post button anyway.

The simple man went to his simple job where he had performed the same simple task every day for the past 13 years of his simple life. He sat down at his simple desk, where he began to perform that simple task, assuming that nothing would change, the same as it hadn't changed for years.

A reasonable person would be able to sense a common theme.

Another man feels the urge to play The Stanley Parable.

In another universe, a man named Stanley tells his grandchildren a story from when he was younger. A story with a moral lesson, you could say, a parable.

Stanley's grandchildren, taking the story to heart, sought out exciting, albiet short, lives. One as a demolitions expert, the other as a swamp guide.

look

The abyss looks back at you.

The simple man jumps into the abyss with a parachute.

You activate a parachute, which you had strapped on. The folded chute pops out of the bag, then just kind of hangs there.

The simple man simply steers his parachute into the wall.

You pull a line and the parachute folds out a little in that direction. then gets back to hanging there.

The simple man decides that he doesn't enjoy hanging there. He cuts himself loose of the parachute.

You switch out a blade and cut the threads that bind the parachute to you, giving it freedom.

The parachute doesn't care. It's perfectly happy just hanging there.

The simple man wonders why gravity isn't working.

You ponder the fundamental laws of the universe. You wonder if you're still in the universe. Actually, what is this universe thing? Was there ever gravity? Did I just make that up? Should really stop making up words for fictional concepts.

The simple man realizes that reality is an illusion, and thinks himself back to his desk to perform his simple job.

Fine

fine fine

fine fine fine fine

fine fine fine finefine fine finefine fine fine

FINE

This is a story about Simon. Simon was a simple man. Who took pleasure in simple things. This lead to him being easily distracted. For example, he had just spent the last 10 minutes typing the word 'fine' repeatedly on his computer.

Normally such behaviour would be frowned upon, but Simon's employer doesn't mind. Mostly because of the cheque the nice people at the equal opportunity office sends him every month, but also partly because Simon often gets so distracted by his work, that he forgets to go home until several hours after he's meant to.

Once again, Simon becomes suddenly aware that the noise which usually resides in his office building has long since gone home for the night.

Simon realized that he had once again stayed hours past the time which he was required to. He looked at the clock, realized how long it had been, yawned, and packed up his simple things into his simple briefcase, and walked down the stairwell and out the door into his simple car. He started the engine and began his commute home, and as was his habit, zoned out.

After "some" time had passed, Simon zoned in to find himself driving in the middle of a forest. Simon thought this was odd, as his office, and his home, were both in the city. Simon does like forests. But not at night. Not sure what to do, Simon stopped the car to think.