text: [Themes: modern, humor]
  
  You are sleeping and enjoying it. In your dream you find yourself standing on a bridge preparing to battle an army of hate driven kittens. The kittens are armed with mittens laced with acid. The kind of acid that will burn your skin away in seconds. They intend to melt anything in their way. Although the fear of melting to death only brings glory to your mind, you know you have to win the battle because behind you, across the bridge you now protect, is the largest collection of choose your own story books in the world. Nobody messes choose your own story books, not even cute little kittens.
  
  [Author's Note: Awesomeland is a funny serious adventure. That is to say, it is about a ridiculous world where ridiculous things are about as common as your average house fly. It is a true statement when in Awesomeland to say "High fives can save the world", or "Angry kittens are no match for laser beams. Awesomeland is not a place for kid gloves. At the gates to Awesomeland if you are found wearing any type of protective gear such as a helmet or a padded vest you will be promptly beaten and disposed of. Now it is nearly time to begin this adventure so prepare to embody a man named "Face Champion", the strongest and most clever man alive. Only one man in this entire awesome world has ever rivaled his amazingness. Only one man has ever come close to beating his record at space invaders. In truth, there is only one man who can defeat Face Champion, and that man is... LAVABEARD! As you begin Chapter One of Awesomeland – The Adventure Begins, remember, only a true hero will find their way through to the end of this awesome tale. Are you a true hero, or shall you turn around and head for Lamesauceland right now?]
  
  > reach into your pocket and pull out a flame thrower.
  Reaching into your pocket you find your trusty old flame thrower. Standing with confidence you ignite the pilot light on the nozzle and grin at the advancing kittens. You wait until the lead kitten is almost upon you before letting loose a fireball even hell would be proud of. Kitten screams and the smell of burning hair fill the air. The advancing army of hate driven kittens is easily dispatched. What a good idea, kittens are no match for fire. In the beggining it was you who stood to become a melted pile of ash, now the kittens are doing a good job of taking on that role.
  
  In front of you lay a field of smoldering kitten carcasses, behind you a safe pile of choose your own story books. You have done well adventurer, return to your realm of wakeful bliss and remember, when in doubt, use fire.
  
  > wake from this awesome dream.
  You attempt to wake. Spinning back into your body you feel a moment of disorientation. Still unsure if you are dreaming or awake you look around the room. Struggling to grab hold of a familiar sight you see numbers... red numbers that glow. You read them. 1. 2. 4. 2... What? You blink and try to read them again. 12:42. Oh! it's a digital clock. You wonder, "AM or PM". You look out what you think is a window and see a bight orb of shining light in the sky. "Ah hah PM." you think to yourself. Time for a drink!
  
  You stand up and stagger out of the dirty tiny apartment. A neighbor greets you in the hall.
  
  "Hey Face!" Good Afternoon!"
  
  > be nice.
  You say nothing only lifting your hand above your head as you walk past. Your posture indicates you are looking for an awesome high five as you walk past. He takes the cue and pulls back his arm in preparation. The impact is intense, emitting a thunderous CLAP. The shock wave knocks over two small children who were playing in the hall. You march out the door and into the street satisfied with neighbor. Anybody who takes a cue on an unspoken epic high five is obviously good people.
  
  > What was that you said about a drink?
  You walk into the bar after a swift walk down the street. The walk got your circulation going enough that your able to focus without squinting and making that sour face you make when you've just woken up.
  
  "Barkeep! Gimme' a pint."
  
  Almost before you finish the sentence a pint of the finest beer slams down onto the counter and slides the length of the bar where you catch it in your hand. The abrupt stop causes the tiny layer of foam at the top of the glass to slosh over the side and run down onto your hand. Without hesitation you toss it down the hatch in and say "Keep em comin".
  
  After three drinks you park the fourth and stare into the foam. Without looking around you notice that the bar is nearly empty. At one of the corner tables you notice an old man lay passed out face down in his spilt beer. Across the room from him is a busy bus boy who is washing tables and running a mop. The barkeep stands at the opposite end of the bar from you busily polishing glasses and quietly whistling a tune.
  
  Something isn't right.
  
  > Duck.
  You duck as three ninja stars slam into the bottles on the shelf just behind the bar in front of where your head had just been. You grab a nearby stool and hurl it at the empty air in the direction of the sleeping old man. The stool flies through the air sailing toward your target, when it smashes into seemingly nothing. A second passes and a table caves in two crashing to the floor launching salt shakers and condiments into the air.
  
  Before the miscellaneous table ware lands you grab what looks like thin air just above the ground where the table had just been and hurl a hand full of nothing at the wall. A second or two of silence and then a hail of splintered sheet rock, two by fours, and insulation launches into the room. A perfect man shaped indent now imprinted the wall.
  
  Not one to gawk you launch yourself foot first at the man shaped impression in the wall. Your foot impacts something invisible smashing it the rest of the way through the wall. What ever it is flies through the air and slides across the asphalt dragging tiny splinters of wall debris with it.
  
  > Love winning, time for another drink!
  Fuck Yeah! You win, nobody could live through a beating like that. Time for a beer. You saunter over to the bar and demand another beer. The bar keep exhibits the classic signs of mental shock as he decides if its appropriate to be serving beer to you after you just kicked a hole in his wall.
  
  "What the fuck was that?!" says the bar keep.
  
  "It doesn't matter, I'm here for the drinks." you say.
  
  "Yeah but you just kicked a hole in my wall!" he exclaims.
  
  You crinkle your face, "What! NO... I just kicked an invisible dude through your wall."
  
  You watch as the bar keep processes the information. You see that he is done when his vacant eyes come back to life and his face relaxes. "Oh, I see, DUH! The man shaped hole gives it all away. For a minute there I though you were on PCP or something... Say, how do you know he's dead, shouldn't you check for a pulse or something?"
  
  You snort "He'll no! I felt his chest cave on that last kick there. I'm sure he's toast."
  
  It's good to be right but sucks when your wrong. In this case, your wrong. It takes you a second to figure out why your body feels like it has been sliced in half but eventually you figure out it's because it has. You look down in time to see the top half of your body sliding off the bottom half. You are conscious long enough to hear the sound of meat heating the floor with a disgusting thud before your senses give out.