text: [Themes: modern, humor]
  
  Only a small gap remains between Tron Guy's light-trail and the wall of the arena, but you know that making a left is your only choice. You quickly take the gap before Tron Guy fills it, and accelerate. You get ahead of tron guy and make another hard left. You stop Tron Guy dead in his tracks, as he slams into your brilliant trap.
  The simulation ends, and Tron Guy looks at you with glee and respect, "Hey, you're pretty good. I haven't had a race like that in a long time, and you know what? It fills me with energy and confidence. As a soldier in the digital battlefield, I promise to help you with your fight against the forces of FARK! I still fear however that we may need aditional help. I have seen what the Farkian armies can do, and trust me, we alone can not defeat them."
  "Well," you say, "who do we get to help us?"
  Tron Guy shrugs, "I don't know, I have been secluded from the internet for too long, I'm afraid that you will have to find someone else for us."
  "Hmm..." you begin, "You know, I think I've got just the guy!"
  
  > say "Bonsai Kittens!"
  "Bonzai Kittens!" You yell with glee. You aren't qui
  te sure how pickled felines are going to help you in your quest, but it may be worth a try, so why the hell not? Tron guy imputs the adress into his fantastic virtual reality device, and you soon find yourself in a quaint little online shop. Outside (yeah, I know, it is in a virtual reality world, there is no outside. Just suspend your disbelief for a second, okay?) there is a small group of protesters, but you don't pay much attention to them. The shelves of this shop are filled with strange curios and devices, but most importantly, tiny little cats shoved in bottles. In the middle of the shop, there is a strange enclosed booth where a slightly unstable looking shopkeeper stands. "Welcome!" He says in a oddly cheery voice. "How may I help you?"
  
  Being that become the undisputed king of the internet doesn't just come to someone overnight, you stop
  to ponder what kind of things you could do. You encounter serious writers block, and realize that your only hope is to browse the internet for ideas. Where do you go first?
  
  > type in random letters on google
  Perhaps it is just your stupidity kicking in again, but you decide to type in random letters on Google and hope that something interesting pops up. You type in the letters L-A-R-P. To your surprise, you get quite a few hits! You browse through the sites, but even after you read what must have been dozens of descriptions of this strange activity, you just can't wrap your mind about it. Surely, no one in their right mind would dress up in costumes and play RPGs!
  Out of curiocity, you decide to contact one of these "larp" groups that is in your city. Almost as soon as you finish sending an email requesting to meet with them, a shuriken whizes past you and lodges itself into your wall. You look behind you to see a man in a cheap ninja costume! He broke through your window and tried to assasinate you! Soon after, a crazed shirtless man with a giant wooden sword jumps through your broken window and yells, "GREATSWORD!" at the top of his lungs as he holds the sword over his head. He is charging at you! What do you do?
  
  > Yell, "LIGHTNING BOLT!" and point your finger at the shirtless man.
  Without thinking, you point your finger at the shirtless man with a wooden sword and yell, "Lightning Bolt!". The man grabs his chest as if hit by some invisible force, and falls to the floor. The man in the ninja costume keeps yelling, "HIDE! HIDE!". You aren't sure if he is trying to hide and is yelling out his
  actions (because he is trying to crawl under your bed), or if he is telling his other would-be-assasins to hide from the wrath of your lightning bolt! Either way you feel pretty good about yourself untill...
  A man with a cheezy robe, felt pointed hat, and simple stick for a staff crawls through your window. "SLEEP!" he yells at you, as he points his staff menacingly. Nothing happens. "SLEEP!" he yells again, louder this time. He stares at you expectantly. What do you do?
  
  Oh Captain Picard, you never fail to make me laugh! How your silly little song makes me smile! Wow, would you look at that, the captain Picard song has tons of hits! Everyone on the internet must know the
  guy who made that YTMND... If only you had those kind of skills... Well, who knows, maybe you could come up with your own idea! You may even create a new YTMND fad, or even a whole new internet fad! Yes, if you could create your own internet fad you would be, dare I say it, totally 1337! Yes, you have a quest! For once in your life, you have an organized goal. You must become who you were destined to be - the KING OF THE INTERNET! Yes, the current king of the internet is old and must be usurped! HA HA! YES! Yeah... well, uh... now what?
  
  > look just a little bit more on YTMND...
  The allure of YTMND is to great for you to resist - you must search the site more! You justify your actions by saying that you might get "more ideas" from the "comic brilliance" of YTMND. A site by the name of "WoW is serious business" catches your eye. Wait a second, what is this? That
  man was screaming at the top of his lungs all over one object - Cloudsong. What object could posses such power?
  Forget fame on the internet, you must find this Cloudsong! Then you will have ultimate power over all of humanity! Yes! You must find this great artifact. After a quick search on google, you discover that this legendary artifact is either in a "World of Warcraft" or in a far off land called "Camelot" which is apparently dark all of the time. So, where to?[Themes: modern, serious, fantasy]
  
  Wennipeg woke up. Again. He lazily got dressed out of the pile of dirty clothes, because he couldn't afford running water. Again. He made himself breakfast, consisting of one piece of stale bread. Again.
  
  Wennipeg had hope at one point. He had just made poor choices. Lots of poor choices. And now, look where he is. Alone, in the crappiest house he could afford, barely able to afford food for himself, much less anything else.
  
  Wennipeg pulled back the mismatched curtains on his one window, to look out on his unkempt, dirty lawn. No one ever knocked on Wennipeg's door. No one ever checked on him, or walked their dog on his lawn, or brought him a fruit basket for the holidays. Depressed, Wennipeg closed his curtains.
  
  Slowly opening the door, almost nervous to show his face, Wennipeg stepped outside. His dirty, stretched-out shirt and ripped up shorts made him feel ugly.
  
  Suddenly, Wennipeg saw a neighbor, walking his dog. The man looked very nice. His hair was combed, and he even had a cup of coffee with him. His dog was a small Doberman puppy, with far, far too much energy. It was a wonder the man could hold a cup of coffee, and be dragged around by his dog without spilling it.
  
  Wennipeg considered saying hello. He had seen his neighbor before, but this would be his first time talking to any of his neighbors.
  
  [Author's Note: Wennipeg was a man who made all the wrong choices in life. Now he was stuck with nothing but a burden of regret. That is, until he was given a second chance. Update 1.1: Fixed a minor error where the first page switches to second-person for a moment. Update 1.2: Fixed link text where it said 'head for home', rather than 'Wennipeg headed for home', and a few similar errors.]
  
  > Wennipeg said Hello
  Wennipeg took a deep breath, and began to walk over to the man. The man was trying to stop his puppy from chewing on a wire. The wire came out of the ground, and went up into a house. Wennipeg wondered what its purpose was.
  
  When the man saw Wennipeg coming up to him, he was afraid at first. "H-hello? Can I help you?" the man asked. Wennipeg was caught off guard. He hadn't talked to many adults. What was appropriate to say? Wennipeg's face turned red as the man stared in confusion. Finally, Wennipeg just muttered a small "hello" and quickly turned to go inside.
  
  "Wait," said the man. Wennipeg was shocked. Why did this man want to talk more? Wasn't he horrified by Wennipeg's unkempt, ugly presence? He turned around. The man was offering his coffee to Wennipeg. "Take it," the man said. "You need it."
  
  > Wennipeg took the mug
  Wennipeg slowly accepted the mug of coffee. The stranger smiled at him. "If you ever need anything, just let me know, okay?" he said. Wennipeg just nodded. Then, he quickly took the mug inside. He was afraid the man would steal it back, just like everything else that was taken from him.
  
  The coffee was like a gift of the gods. It smelled and tasted better than anything Wennipeg had eaten or drank in a long time. It was warm, also unlike anything he usually ate. And the mug. Oh, the mug was beautiful. It was white, with small wording on the side:
  
  Wennipeg put the mug on his shelf. He loved his shelf, it had his three favorite things on it. The first was a comic strip from a newspaper. It had made Wennipeg die of laughter, so he cut it out and put it on his shelf. The second was a plastic bag with a few holes in it. This was Wennipeg's shopping bag. He knew they had other carts and bags at the store, but he felt bad about getting his grimy hands on other people's stuff, so he just used that bag. The holes came from the bag being so full of canned beans and TV dinners. And now, a wonderful mug as his third favorite item. It made Wennipeg so happy. But he was also very tired. Wennipeg didn't have a lot to do without a job or electricity, so he slept a lot.
  
  Wennipeg had quite the fitful night. In fact, he had a dream. Wennipeg was on his knees, in his childhood home, all by himself. Wennipeg sat, and wondered where things went wrong. He had never been an obedient or good child, but he was still smart. He wanted to be an actor when he grew up. But no colleges wanted him. Nobody wanted him. His Mom wasn't fond of him, his dad was away, working a lot, his teachers grew angry with him very quickly, and no girl had ever liked him.
  
  Suddenly, a voice broke Wennipeg's thoughts. It was a voice he recognized, though he didn't know from where. The voice asked him a question that made him think. It asked him what he regretted. Everything, he was tempted to say. I regret everything. But he realized he didn't. Only certain things he regretted. Then the voice asked him an even more powerful question. It asked him, if you had a second chance, what would you do differently?
  
  > .....
  Suddenly, Wennipeg was in a whole new environment. He was sitting on a beach. Wennipeg recognized where he was immediately. It was a memory, that was very strong in his mind. When he was seven, he was very mischievous. He had gotten lost at the beach while running away from his mom. Maybe this was one of his regrets. He had started disobeying his mom more after this. He considered changing his ways. But no, that would be silly...right?
  
  Wennipeg was determined. He'd seen pictures of sand castles, videos of sand castles, and all of them were magnificent. All he had been able to do was ugly lumps of sand. But not this time. His dad had worked two weekends to get him a big orange pail and a purple plastic shovel. He was going to build the biggest sand castle anyone had ever seen.
  
  Wennipeg was hard at work. He got water from the ocean, wet the sand, and began creating his foundation. It was a long drive to the beach, so he didn't get to go a lot, but he was determined to make the most of it.
  
  Yes! The spires scraped the sky, the seashell-dotted path up to the doors was glorious! Wennipeg loved his creation, but he wasn't done. He wanted to dig a moat. But then, he heard something.
  
  "WENNNNIIIPPEGGGGGG!!!" No! His mom was calling him to go home! His work wasn't done! Couldn't she see? The will to ignore her was strong. But then he remembered why he was here. Maybe he should go, and obey his mother once and for all?
  
  > Wennipeg got up, and went with his mother
  Yes. Wennipeg was going to do things differently now. He left his creation moatless, for the other kids to destroy. He brought his pail and shovel back to his mom.
  
  "Did you have fun?" she asked. Wennipeg was disappointed he couldn't finish his castle, but he did have fun. He just nodded, and got into the backseat with his things.
  
  On the way home, Wennipeg was proud of himself. He didn't feel this way often, but he liked it. As they drove, he could feel himself fading out, into a new place.
  
  > ....
  The world faded back in, and Wennipeg was in a whole new memory. This was another important one, he could tell.
  
  Slowly, Wennipeg opened his eyes. He could smell pizza on his own breath. He opened his eyes further, and looked at his hands. They were covered in Cheetos dust. Wennipeg smiled. This was his first middle school party. He slowly got off the couch he had slept on. Several cups half-full of soda spilled off his lap, and onto the ground.
  
  His friend came into the room. "Hey, Wen, can you help clean up? This is quite the mess the guys made." Wennipeg remembered what had happened last time. He had ditched his friend, because he didn't want to help clean up. This was when he started losing his friends.
  
  > Wennipeg helped clean up the mess
  Wennipeg decided to do things differently this time. He said that he would stay, and he did. He helped vacuum the floor, and pick up all the trash that everyone had left. He felt good about himself for helping to clean up. Wennipeg's friend told him to clear off the counter, so he did. He shoveled all the paper plates and trash into the garbage, along with a few other things. When he was done, he went to go clean himself up in the bathroom.
  
  As he was smoothing over his hair, he heard his friend yeling. He quickly came outside to see what was the matter. His friend had his hand in the sink disposal system. "Dude, you put my parents' keys in the disposal!" his friend shouted. Immediately, Wennipeg felt awful. He must have accidentally done it while he was scooping things into the trash. He ran over to help his friend. In doing so, however, Wennipeg, clumsy as he was, accidentally turned on the disposal while helping his friend out.
  
  Wennipeg was grounded for a year. He had destroyed his friend's hand, shredded it to bits. His friend spent months in the hospital. He felt awful for what he had done. But what happened? Doing things differently was supposed to help him. This didn't help at all. Wennipeg was glad to see the world fading out, to take away his soul-crushing guilt.
  
  > ...
  The world faded in again. Wennipeg was surprised to be at a friend's house again. But this time, it was different. He was in high school. And there was beer. Alcohol. Liquor. Wennipeg remembered this. He had totaled his car after getting drunk with his friends.
  
  Wennipeg sat at a table, watching everyone dance and talk and party. He wanted to have fun and have a drink or two, but he didn't want to do it the same as last time. He would have to be careful.
  
  Wennipeg got up, and looked around. He saw a group of his friends talking, a beer cooler, and a karaoke set, just waiting to be used.
  
  > Wennipeg tried the karaoke machine
  Wennipeg decided to steer clear of alcohol, and go to the karaoke machine. Nobody was really paying attention to it. He looked in the roster. Pompeii by Bastille was the second option. Wennipeg loved that song. He was almost excited now. He pushed the button for that, and the music began to start.
  
  Eh, eh-oh, eh-oh, eh eh-oh, eh, eh-oh, eh-oh, eh eh-oh, eh, eh-oh, eh-oh, eh eh-oh, eh, eh-oh, eh-oh, eh eh-oh.
  
  By that point, a lot of people had crowded around Wennipeg, standing on the stage all by himself. Nobody was really cheering for him, they mostly just stared. Wennipeg managed to get over his nerves just as the lyrics started.
  
  I was left, to my own, devi, I, I, ices. Many days, fell away, with nothing, to show.
  
  A few people started to dance. A lot of them were smiling. Wennipeg's friends were pumping their fists and pointing at him. Yes, he thought. Why waste my time with alcohol, when I can become star of the show? He started to put his heart into it, yelling the lyrics along with the machine.
  
  How am I gonna be an optimist about this? How am I gonna be an optimist about this? Eh, eh-oh, eh-oh,
  
  Wennipeg started to dance to his own singing. He got excited. So excited, that he tripped over the microphone cord. The song was still playing in the background. Wennipeg quickly got back up, and tried to keep singing. But he could hear the people laughing. Everyone was giggling at him. Blood began pounding in his head. He could feel how hot his skin was. He was probably red, too. This was made worse by the fact that he couldn't sync back up with the lyrics. Everything that was happening had made him lose his mojo, and he sang two seconds after the machine did. The song ended, and Wennipeg quickly tried to leave the stage, only to trip over the microphone cord again.
  
  > Wennipeg went to drown his embarrassment with liquor
  Wennipeg didn't know why he was even hesitating. He loved alcohol, even though he usually overdid it. This time, he promised himself, he wouldn't go overboard. He grabbed the weakest-looking beverage out of the cooler, and took a sip. From that point forward, Wennipeg knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself. He gulped down the bottle in his hand, and went in for more.
  
  When Wennipeg came back to his senses, there were five empty bottles at his feet, and another half-empty one in his hand. He was drunk, and he knew it. There was nothing he could do about it. Things had happened just as they did before.
  
  > Wennipeg kept drinking, and drove home alone
  the party was nearing its end, and everyone was getting their cars from the nearby parking lot to go home. Wennipeg stumbled out of the house, and slowly made his way over to the cars. He quickly found his car. And went to open it, but the door wouldn't budge. Wennipeg pulled and pulled, and put his feet against the car for more strength. Suddenly, someone pushed him from behind.
  
  "Hey, weirdo! Get off my car!" It was one of the popular kids. Wennipeg had mistaken this person's car for his. He mumbled an apology, and went off to find his car. When he did, he still had trouble opening the door. Wennipeg was the last one out of the parking lot.
  
  As everyone went their separate ways to go home, Wennipeg had trouble remembering which way to go. He didn't recognize the street names, and he could barely see. As he sat in the middle of the road, trying to remember the way home, he heard a car horn. He looked up to see a truck reeling down the road, trying to swerve out of the way. Wennipeg panicked, and pressed on the gas.
  
  Just like last time, the front of his car was smashed against the truck. And just like last time, Wennipeg was grounded and had to pay for the damage to his car by himself. As Wennipeg sat on his driveway, the world faded out once more.
  
  > ...
  The world faded in again, and Wennipeg was expecting it. This time, he was at his house. He had butterflies in his stomach, and had showered three times. This was his first job interview.
  
  Since he didn't do well in school, Wennipeg wasn't able to go to a real job interview, like an office job. He was applying for a restaurant job, to earn some money. Last time, he was ill-prepared, and didn't get the job. This was what started him down the road to not being able to feed himself. If he could change his ways...
  
  The first decision, of course, was what to wear. Wennipeg was running out of the money his parents had worked hard to give him. Therefore, he couldn't afford a suit and tie. He didn't think he needed that, anyway. It was a restaurant interview. He could dress casual, but not too casual. Wennipeg thought over his choices.
  
  > Wennipeg chose a tank top, shorts, and flip-flops
  Wennipeg chose the most slack thing he had. He wanted to let the interviewers know his personality the moment they saw him. Plus, it was very comfortable.
  
  The next choice was what to take with him. He could see pros and cons of all his possessions, and he chose the best he could.
  
  > Wennipeg chose the suitcase
  A suitcase would make him look very business-like, and he could carry a lot more. Wennipeg put some money into the suitcase and practiced holding it cool in the mirror.
  
  The final thing to do was select a hairstyle. Wennipeg's hair was curly and messy, so it took a lot of effort to comb it over. Still, he wanted to make a good impression.
  
  > Wennipeg shaped his hair into a Mohawk
  Wennipeg wanted to show his spirit in the interview, so he used some hair gel to put his curly hair up into a Mohawk. It didn't work very well, since Mohawk is more of a straight-hair hairstyle, but it was fine.
  
  > Wennipeg left for his interview
  Wennipeg packed his car, and headed to the interview. When he arrived, the lady working the cash register gave him a strange look. But, he was ushered into the back for an interview.
  
  Not only was he unsuccessful, it didn't seem like his interviewers even took him seriously. He had tried his best, and he still got laughed at. Was it his clothes? His hair? Did he say something wrong? He didn't know anymore.
  
  He left the restaurant with his shoulders slumped. As he got into his car, the world began to fade.
  
  > ....
  The world faded back in. Wennipeg wondered what his next trial would be. This time, he was sitting at a coffee shop, in front of a beautiful woman.
  
  Wennipeg's first date.
  
  Wennipeg stirred his drink nervously. This time, it seemed, he was the one to speak first.
  
  > say "What music do you listen to?"
  Wennipeg kept stirring his drink. "What music do you like?" he asked. Wennipeg was never good at breaking the ice.
  
  "I like quiet, soft music," she replied. Wennipeg could understand that. She was a soft, quiet person. He sat there for a while before realizing he had to say something else.
  
  > say "What's your name?"
  Wennipeg struggled to think of anything to say, so he blurted out a random question. "What's your name?" he knew how stupid he sounded the moment he said it. He asked that very question at the start of the date!
  
  The woman looked very confused. "I already said, my name is Aubrey." Wennipeg felt as though he was melting. He had to think of something else to say.
  
  > say "Do you live around here?"
  Wennipeg thought to ask about where she lived. He was worried that he would have to pick a different meeting place for next time. "Where do you live?"
  
  "Oh, around here. You know that produce store that everyone loves? I'm just a bit further down the street," Wennipeg had absolutely no clue which store she was referring to.
  
  > Wennipeg struggled to think of anything to say.
  Suddenly, before Wennipeg could think of something else to say, the waiter brought the check. It was small, because only two drinks were ordered. Wennipeg would have paid, but he couldn't afford to. Luckily, the woman didn't ask and covered the bill herself. Then she started putting her things in her purse.
  
  > Wennipeg headed home
  Wennipeg was split. He wanted to ask for the girl's number, or some way of keeping in touch, but she didn't seem interested. Wennipeg also didn't want to make her uncomfortable. After standing there, blank-faced, Wennipeg hustled to his car without saying anything to the girl.
  
  As he drove home, the world began to fade again. Wennipeg was at least able to enjoy owning a car for a few more seconds.
  
  > ...
  Suddenly, Wennipeg was in a new environment. It was the same as the start of his dream. He was in his room, on his knees again. When the loud voice came, Wennipeg was expecting it.
  
  The voice told Wennipeg that it had given him five chances, five times to re-evaluate his choices, five tries to put himself in a better place. The question was, had he used them well?
  
  > Wennipeg woke up.
  Wennipeg sat up. He was in his own bed, in his own time. This was reality. What an odd dream that was, Wennipeg thought. He got out of bed. He went over to his window and pulled back his mismatched curtains. It was morning when he went to sleep. Now it was past noon.
  
  Wennipeg was quite hungry, so he made himself a piece of stale bread. He sat on his rotting couch and ate his stale bread. Then, he decided to go outside and see if he had gotten any mail. He occasionally got letters. Wennipeg put his dirty, matted bathrobe on and went out to his mailbox. Luckily, none of his neighbors were outside. He opened the mailbox. He had two envelopes.
  
  Wennipeg took the letters back inside and opened them. One was an ad for a credit card. He got one of those every week. He put the ad with all the others he had collected, inside a cabinet. The second letter was an eviction notice. Wennipeg hadn't paid any of his bills for months.
  
  Tears formed in Wennipeg's eyes. He had finally hit rock bottom. He had nowhere to live. Silently, he got up and retrieved a large cardboard box from his closet. He packed all of his important belongings inside. He carried the box outside, and stopped to look at his house one final time.
  
  Wennipeg was stopped by the police on the side of the road. They asked him what he was doing. Wennipeg panicked and ran. The police chased him, and took him to the police station after arresting him. Wennipeg sat in his cell, waiting to see what he had even done wrong. He also wondered if things could have been different.