In our previous episode, Tony introduced Tati to ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’ books. But Tati, like a real clever dick, quickly googled it, pretending to know what they were. Suddenly, a mysterious man in black appeared out of nowhere…
They’d decided to meet at the Greater Cachalot Mall, which was more akin to a bustling mini metropolis than an actual mall. Located on an island in international waters, it lay somewhere between Ukraine and Australia, and required no Visa to visit. Tati travelled there via the Trans-Zhmerynka Portalway while Tony took the TUMS Oceania Tube.
Tony arrived first, lugging three huge suitcases behind him. They were filled with god knows what, and the hotel staff were understandably curious. Who could possibly need that much crap? What the hell was it? Was it clothes or something nefarious like money for a drug drop? Tony did have the bedraggled appearance of a dealer after all.
Tati appeared twenty minutes later with her habitual backpack and a mint lollipop. She slapped Tony’s back, causing him to choke on his soda. “Are you drinking that slop again?” Tony winced at her pointed question. “You boob! When will you drop dead from diabetes? I won’t be coming to your funeral! And don’t complain that I didn’t warn you!”
They were looking at each other with a mixture of love and hate, and therefore didn’t notice a mysterious man in black slipping quietly behind them and making a beeline for Tony’s suitcases…
“What? Cooperative staff? What do you mean?” Tati blinked in confusion.
“Stuff you can interact with. Like a knob or Rubik’s Cube.”
“Hmm… knob. I sense a trick.” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Do you want to beep my nose again?”
“Could I?” Tony’s mouth broke into a sly grin. “Although that’s more like a button really, not a knob.”
Tati wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Tony, I won’t fall for this shit again. You and your speculative staff!”
Now Tony blinked. “Well, I’ve never heard it called that before…”
“What? These were your words! You asked me if I like copulative staff only a moment ago. I’m not crazy. I know what I heard!”
“Actually, I was referring to ‘CYOA’ books. My knob… erm… knobs in general… erm… staffs… Shit. Let’s just say Rubik’s Cubes.” Tony pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Look, I was just using these as examples of things that could be interacted with…”
Tati stared at him. He slumped his shoulders and said sheepishly to himself, “Damn. I’ve become a dirty old man, haven’t I? I always promised myself that wouldn’t happen.”
“C’mon you! Old ass!”
Tony blinked again. “Hey, hey, hey! No need to get insulting!”
“‘CYOA’ books! Doesn’t this mean ‘C’mon you! Old ass!’ books?”
“No, it really doesn’t. Please, Tati, do save me from your endless guessing, okay? Let me put you out of your misery.”
“Well, you can try. But, please, without your silly euphemisms like ‘knobs’. I’m a big girl. You can say ‘interactive dick’ if what you mean is ‘interactive dick’.”
“Good lord. Now you’ve got me blushing…” And he really was!
“Well, out with it!” She tapped her foot on the tiled floor, impatient.
“Erm… yes. ‘CYOA’ means ‘Choose Your Own Adventure’.”
“With dicks?”
“NO! Not with dicks! What’s wrong with you? This isn’t an adult version of ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey’ y’know!”
“Such a pity. Okay, so what is it?”
“It was a series of children’s books that began in the seventies. Each story was written from a second-person point of view, and each section of the story would end with a list of choices for how it could progress.” Tony was in full professorial mode now. He was so cute when he got like this. “You could be a pirate, an astronaut, or even an investment banker. Actually, I don’t think there ever was one with an investment banker in it…”
“Tony, stop your verbal flood. Couldn’t you have said just one word at the start?”
“Actually, that’d be in the list of choices. ‘If you decide to listen to Tony’s lengthy, long-winded explanation, thus running the risk of slipping into a coma, turn to page 17. If you decide to convince him to use fewer words, thus saving yourself valuable drinking time, turn to page 21. If you decide to slap him in the face with a wet fish, turn to page 34.’”
“WOW! And what will happen if I jump right to page 45?”
unbolt me 