text: [Themes: edutainment, quiz]
  
  You are an artist who thrives on realism and believes in the ideology of objective reality. You believe that realism art is the most beautiful of them all, although you will admit that there are some other forms that are good too. One day you overhear two realism artist talking about a form of art that was just terrible. You can't be sure but you think they were talking about ...
  
  > Expressionism
  You think that they are discussing the form expressionism. Unfortunately for you, the men are not against this particular form of art and become angered that you are. They ignore your attempts to tell them you made a mistake as they beat you. You die from brain injuries on the side of the street. You Lose.
  
  You are an artist who thrives on realism and believes in the ideology of objective reality. You believe that realism art is the most beautiful of them all, although you will admit that there are some other forms that are good too. One day you overhear two realism artist talking about a form of art that was just terrible. You can't be sure but you think they were talking about ...
  
  > Rococo
  You think that they are discussing the form, rococo. Unfortunately for you, that was not the correct form and they scoff at you, calling you foolish and uncultured. You hurry away quickly but by that time tomorrow everyone knows of your lack of knowledge and many feel the need for revenge. You are threatened by many and end up running out of town one night in fear, never to be seen again.
  
  You are an artist looking for inspiration. In the past you have used everything from nature to city life. Now during the Romanticism era you feel inspired to create another canvas. You get ready to start when you realize one problem, you need a subject. Do you turn towards...
  
  > People, Nature, and movement
  You chose to focus on people in your art. Unfortunately for you, the romantic era is all about nature and your painting is just about the farthest you can get from it. People see your work and think you are stuck in the ways of old. With no one to buy your "old" work you are forced to give up the life of a painter and hope there is room in the fields. You Lose.
  
  You are an artist looking for inspiration. In the past you have used everything from nature to city life. Now during the Romanticism era you feel inspired to create another canvas. You get ready to start when you realize one problem, you need a subject. Do you turn towards...
  
  > Outdoors, seaside, Parisian streets and cafes
  You chose to paint the city life with its streets and cafes. Unfortunately for you, the people do not want to see more of the city. They want to see the hills, mountains, forests, and prairies. Everything but the city. Other artists find your lack of modern day art pathetic and torment you until you become so distraught that you commit suicided. You Lose.
  
  You are an artist looking for inspiration. In the past you have used everything from nature to city life. Now during the Romanticism era you feel inspired to create another canvas. You get ready to start when you realize one problem, you need a subject. Do you turn towards...
  
  > Celebration of the human beauty and dignity
  You chose to have your painting commemorate the human beauty and dignity. Unfortunately for you, the people are not interested in the body and find your work dull and boring. Ashamed by your foolishness you give up your dream of becoming a painter and turn your efforts to candlestick making. You Lose.
  
  You want to sculpt a figurine in the style of Neoclassic but you can't find inspiration. A friend suggests that you find the arts importance to the people and let it inspire you. You go around and ask citizens what is important to them when they see neoclassic art. As a result you now know the most significant thing to the people. It was...
  
  > The Splendor of Food
  You chose to copy the "fruit in a bowl" painting and turn it into a stone creation. Unfortunately for you, the public is mostly made up of people that have no money for fresh fruit. They see your art as mockery and want to destroy the one responsible for reminding them of their hunger. They lock you away and when you ask for food they give you your art leaving you to starve to death. You Lose.
  
  You are a tailor during the Rococo era. The nobles have requested a brand new wardrobe that is styled after the kings. You are about to start when you realize that you can't remember who is currently power. You don't want to seem foolish by asking someone else so you decide to guess and hope luck is in your favor. The king is...
  
  > King Charles VI
  You choose to tailor the wardrobe in style of King Charles VI. Unfortunately for you, once the clothes are complete you realize that he is not the correct ruler. Unsure of what to do you go and admit your mistake to the nobles, joking about how foolish you are. They are not amused and as punishment for your mistake force you to serve them for the rest of your life. You Lose.
  
  You are a tailor during the Rococo era. The nobles have requested a brand new wardrobe that is styled after the kings. You are about to start when you realize that you can't remember who is currently power. You don't want to seem foolish by asking someone else so you decide to guess and hope luck is in your favor. The king is...
  
  > King George
  You chose to tailor the wardrobe in the style of King George. Unfortunately for you after showing the clothes to the nobles they become angry. You are told that he is not the king they wanted. You are banished to England, after all that is where King George rules. You Lose.
  
  You are a tailor during the Rococo era. The nobles have requested a brand new wardrobe that is styled after the kings. You are about to start when you realize that you can't remember who is currently power. You don't want to seem foolish by asking someone else so you decide to guess and hope luck is in your favor. The king is...
  
  > King Philip V
  You chose to tailor the wardrobe in the style of King Philip V. Unfortunately for you, a servant informs you that he is the ruler of Spain. Now with no clue of whom the current ruler is you have no way to style the clothes. Fearing punishment you flee the country and get lost in the wilderness where you perish in the cold of the night. You Lose.
  
  You want to style your art after the famous artist that created, The Last Supper. You are astounded at the beauty of the piece and felt inspired to paint something in tribute to the original artist. There is just one problem, you can't remember who painted it. You have it narrowed down in your head to the four most famous artists of your time and now you just need to pick one. Was it...
  
  > Donatello
  You remember that the artist was Donatello. Unfortunately for you a group of Donatello fans over hear your plans and realize you have the wrong artist. Angered by your ignorance they slip poison into your drink. You did not wake again after going to bed that night. You Lose.[Themes: horror, serious, zombie]
  
  It was just a normal day, the kind of day that seems to happen every day, except for one small detail... it was normal... too normal. So normal that you were just going about your normal business, loitering around shopping complexes, or whatever it is you jobless welfare state leeches do with your days except getting pregnant. Well, you were there,let's say on a street corner, and there's a man approaching you. Oh by the way, your an eighteen year old scrawny unemployed white guy deadbeat. And this man is staggering kinda funny towards you, like he's hopped up on goofballs or something. Act fast!
  
  [Author's Note: MMMmmm. It's not entirely finished, and I'm not sure what maturity rating it should have given the amount of foul language, reference to deviant sexual acts, and utterly unfair bile directed at eighteen year old men. IF THIS VERSION IS PUBLISHED, PLEASE DON'T CLICK ON ANY LINKS TO GREEN GLOWING GOVERNMENT BUILDINGS; THAT IS A PLOT ARC I HAVEN'T GOT ROUND TO YET. It's a bit ropey, but I hope the frequent violence more than makes up for the plot. Well, this strategy has worked for Hollywood for the past 50 years. Anyways, please post criticism/flame mail so that I can re-write/remove the offending article.]
  
  > act cool, while secretly shitting in your unwashed undies
  Oh yeah, you got it goin' on. All those years of sitting up and watching Paul Daniels on tape alone at night pay off, and with subtle mastery of misdirection, you distract people's attention away from the beads of teenybopper sweat forming on your pasty brow by lighting a cigarette. The man still lumbers towards you, close enough for you to see his ghastly countenance. Indeed, he is in fact one of the Zombies the title of this game referred to, pieces of his face flaking off as he approaches, moaning 'brains...brains' to himself. fuckin' hell! What do you do?
  
  > curl up into a ball, and pretend to be dead, or asleep or something
  All those years of staying up, watching the discovery channel like the partnerless drop out you are does not pay off. You see, when confronted with grizzly bears, or sharks, or other big bitey animals, it is advised to curl up into a non-threatening ball. However, this is not the case when confronted with the living dead.
  
  You drop to the floor, like the wussy pansy-ass that you are, gently singing 'not in the face, not in the face' to yourself. The Zombie, though you cannot see his face, is not impressed. It bends down, and you feel its bony fingers take big chunks of your flesh off your body, and it eats them. Before you die, you have something of an epiphany:
  
  'If only I weren't such a dumbass, and got a job or a life like everybody else, this zombie would not be eating my flesh.'
  
  Oh yeah, you got it goin' on. All those years of sitting up and watching Paul Daniels on tape alone at night pay off, and with subtle mastery of misdirection, you distract people's attention away from the beads of teenybopper sweat forming on your pasty brow by lighting a cigarette. The man still lumbers towards you, close enough for you to see his ghastly countenance. Indeed, he is in fact one of the Zombies the title of this game referred to, pieces of his face flaking off as he approaches, moaning 'brains...brains' to himself. fuckin' hell! What do you do?
  
  > charge! Tackle the decomposing mutha'
  You stiffen the muscles in your bandy legs, and pounce like some pale thin scrawny lily white pansy ass girl pants tiger with polio onto the hapless Zombie.
  
  By hapless, I meant eager and waiting for some flesh with magical super zombie powers from beyond the goddamned grave, who effortlessly catches your Braveheartesque charge, grabbing you by your sorry-ass thin wrists, holding you aloft, so that your face is in prime gnashing range. As it turns out, your horoscope for today was shockingly accurate: You did indeed find out what it feels like to have the undead chew your face off to get at the sweet, sweet brains beneath.
  
  Oh yeah, you got it goin' on. All those years of sitting up and watching Paul Daniels on tape alone at night pay off, and with subtle mastery of misdirection, you distract people's attention away from the beads of teenybopper sweat forming on your pasty brow by lighting a cigarette. The man still lumbers towards you, close enough for you to see his ghastly countenance. Indeed, he is in fact one of the Zombies the title of this game referred to, pieces of his face flaking off as he approaches, moaning 'brains...brains' to himself. fuckin' hell! What do you do?
  
  > give up the cool act, and run like the craven schmuck you are
  Your legs carried you as fast as they could away from the zombiethingfrombeyondthegrave, which wasn't that fast at all, all things considered. Everybody laughs at you as you run, because you run like a girl. But even the pre-teen girls laugh, suggesting that you run like something worse than a girl, like Stephen Hawking or something. But comedy running aside, you do indeed manage to give that zombie the slip.
  
  You find yourself on the highstreet of whatever city this is set in. What do you do? What do you do?
  
  > Obviously there is some kind of Zombie invasion going on, so you should report it to the police
  I don't think you are familiar with the shlock horror genre at all, are you. I mean, you seem to be applying reason to an apparently irrational situation. You know what that shows? An unwillingness to suspend your sense of disbelief and enter into the spirit of things. Just for that, I'm going to give you a messy death.
  
  When you arrive at the police station, to your horror you realise that the police are all rabid flesh munching horror zombies, which is even worse than being racist authoritarians in the pay of the bourgeoisie in my book. They all eat your flesh off. And then they arrest your body. Why? For being a dumbass, because in this game there's a law against being such a frigging momma's boy and wanting the police to sort out your problems.
  
  Your legs carried you as fast as they could away from the zombiethingfrombeyondthegrave, which wasn't that fast at all, all things considered. Everybody laughs at you as you run, because you run like a girl. But even the pre-teen girls laugh, suggesting that you run like something worse than a girl, like Stephen Hawking or something. But comedy running aside, you do indeed manage to give that zombie the slip.
  
  You find yourself on the highstreet of whatever city this is set in. What do you do? What do you do?
  
  > hole yourself up somewhere where there is a lot of weaponry and wait for the whole thing to blow over
  At last (I know you screwed up on the last few choices) you decide to accept your fate and take your rightful place in this little piece: you can now be the cowering schmuck we always knew you were, holed up somewhere, armed to the teeth waiting for the Zombies.
  
  The question is, where do you hide?
  
  > A bowling alley
  Like the slacker you are, you decide to spend what are most probably your final few hours in a bowling alley. How sad. Having nobody who cares about you, or anything worth living for, you've ended up in the one place that seems to hate you less, Ted's Bowl-o-rama. And you even suspect that Ted isn't that fond of you after all. Especially now that he's a flesh eating Zombie creeper from far beyond the stars and he's advancing in his shuffling 'gonna eat your guts out' gait he now has. Brains! What do you do?
  
  > cave in Ted's skull with a bowling ball
  Putting aside years of friendship, or, if we are going to be honest about this, years of embarrassed acknlowdgement of each others respective existence tinged with mutual loathing, you grab the nearest bowling ball and mercilessly smash the un-life out of Ted's skull. Why must we hurt those we love? I hope you're pleased with yourself, boyo.
  
  > barricade yourself in the bowling alley
  Using the skills you learnt in Vietnam, which have not been mentioned before, and similarly shall never be mentioned henceforth, you manage to construct all kind of A-teamesque traps, mostly involving bowling balls. Kind of like Tom and Jerry, except the things caught in the traps will hopefully stay dead. Anyhoo, you're now the last living guy in the bowl-o-rama, and is surrounded by traps. What now, Einstein?
  
  > Wait.
  Hmmm. In retrospect, the bowl-o-rama may not have been the best choice as your stronghold. Not even zombies come to this shit-hole. And you're getting peckish. And Ted's carcass is beginning to smell kinda funny. And it's cold. And you put a trap in front of the toilets so you can't even go for a whizz. You're such a fucking dumbass. What now, Sherlock?
  
  > wait longer; you're sure the Zombie invasion can't last that long.
  Getting cold, kinda bored, desperate for the toilet, hungry and at the same time nauseated by the stench of Ted's carcass, you just wish the Zombies would hurry up and end your largely futile existence. So this is your masterplan, eh?
  
  Your reverie of oh-so familiar self-pity is interrupted by the clatter of falling bowling balls: a Zombie has stumbled into one of your traps! The good old suspended net of bowlingballs connected to tripwire triumphs once again, removing the head and left arm of the Zombie, who falls dead. However, there is now a hole in your defences! NOoooo!
  
  > Hastily re-set up trap
  With all the speed your skinny carcass can muster you run about picking up all the bowling balls, and putting them in their hammock, and are just about to get around to re-hoisting it all to the ceiling when you fell clammy dead hands pinching deep into your smooth boyflesh. Although you aren't killed by the Zombie, you do manage to drop the rope suspending the net full of bowling balls, which unsurprisingly manages to crush your skull. On a lighter note, the bowling balls manage to kill that pesky zombie as well. But that's little consolation considering your deadness. Dumbass.
  
  Getting cold, kinda bored, desperate for the toilet, hungry and at the same time nauseated by the stench of Ted's carcass, you just wish the Zombies would hurry up and end your largely futile existence. So this is your masterplan, eh?
  
  Your reverie of oh-so familiar self-pity is interrupted by the clatter of falling bowling balls: a Zombie has stumbled into one of your traps! The good old suspended net of bowlingballs connected to tripwire triumphs once again, removing the head and left arm of the Zombie, who falls dead. However, there is now a hole in your defences! NOoooo!
  
  > push big heavy object in front of doors to deny entrance
  Knowing that you don't have a chance in hell of resetting the trap before the Zombies deflesh your ugly face, you just push a big vending machine in front of the entrance, which should hold them off for a while at least. No time to rest - the old familiar sound of a bowling ball catapulted into a rotting face alerts you that another trap has been set off on the other side of the alley... the zombies have broken the window and want in.
  
  > re-load bowling ball catapult
  Grabbing the nearest bowling ball, you rush over to the bowlingballpult and re-load it. Seconds later it is sprung again by the Zombies outside, sending the ball at high speeds, taking one of the raggedy shambling monstrosity's head clean off. Well, it was bit messy, but for our purposes we'll say it was taken clean off.
  
  > keep on re-loading the catapult
  The Zombies clamber over the body of their dead comrade and keep on advancing, dragging their nasty-ass carcasses on to the windowsill. By this time you've managed to re-load, and send a bowling ball straight the chest of the Zombie. Unfortunately for you, Zombies can only be stopped by destroying their heads, so it keeps on advancing towards you, who has no bowling balls handy. The Zombie makes short work of you, because you are a pasty thin little sack of shit. At least that's what your dad kept on telling you. And he was right.
  
  Grabbing the nearest bowling ball, you rush over to the bowlingballpult and re-load it. Seconds later it is sprung again by the Zombies outside, sending the ball at high speeds, taking one of the raggedy shambling monstrosity's head clean off. Well, it was bit messy, but for our purposes we'll say it was taken clean off.
  
  > take advantage of momentary confusion to board up window
  As the Zombies are momentarily discouraged, and confused, because let's be honest here, they may as well be cannibal retards with hygiene problems, you take the opportunity to board up and secure the window with some extremely handy boards that just happen to be lying around. Holy goddamned muthafuckin' shit - behind you! You hear a Zombie tripping over the bowlingballs strewn all over the place by the earlier trap... the Zombies have managed to push aside the vending machine barricade! Think fast!
  
  > run over to the fallen Zombie and jump on it's head
  All ready knackered because you've done like more than three things today, and you're not really used to it being an unemployed layabout with no hopes and no future whatsoever, you manage to bound across the alley to the other end and take a big running jump onto the zombie's head, which crushes beneath your feet. Unfortunately, you're so damn tired that you manage to slip up in the big pool of brains you just created, and end up falling over. You do tend to fall over a lot. Perhaps you have like some kind of brain condition, like the one Michael J. Fox has. But anyways, you're on your scrawny chicken ass, and the Zombies are coming thick and fast through the now unbarricaded main entrance. What do you do?
  
  > try to get back on your feet, and then hope you think of soemthing clever
  Scrabbling like some demented kitten on speed, you try to clamber to your feet. It's not happening; your body just isn't used to being this active after so many years of doing nothing, and you manage to fall right back down again, this time hitting your head on a bowling ball, and you start to leak out brainjuice everywhere. The scent of this sends the Zombies crazy, and they just can't get enough of that wonderful stuff leaking out the side of your head. It's an odd sensation to have the undead poke their cold, dry tongues through a hole in your skull. Perhaps it was the brain damage, perhaps lack of oxygen or something like that, but you don't find the experience terribly unpleasant. Too bad you die before you can really savour it though.
  
  All ready knackered because you've done like more than three things today, and you're not really used to it being an unemployed layabout with no hopes and no future whatsoever, you manage to bound across the alley to the other end and take a big running jump onto the zombie's head, which crushes beneath your feet. Unfortunately, you're so damn tired that you manage to slip up in the big pool of brains you just created, and end up falling over. You do tend to fall over a lot. Perhaps you have like some kind of brain condition, like the one Michael J. Fox has. But anyways, you're on your scrawny chicken ass, and the Zombies are coming thick and fast through the now unbarricaded main entrance. What do you do?
  
  > hide underneath the headless Zombie corpse and hope nobody notices you
  Just as I suspected; when the going get's tough you just lie down and hope it all goes away. Is that a tear? Is Daddy's little girl upset? Anyway, you just continue to lie there, hugging a stinking and bloated corpse on top of you, waiting for everything to blow over, or at least for the zombies to put you out of your misery. But wait...is that an option I see in the options bar....
  
  > Unexpected twist to this already convoluted tale
  Who would've thought it... an unexpected ending that sets up the beginnings of a sequel. Lying underneath that corpse gave you just enough time for some group of useful people to save you! Kitted out in all the useful zombiekilling items you failed to find, they go about killing all the zombies for you. Finally, when all the zombies are smoking remains, you pop your head out and say hi. The leader of the group turns to you and says - hey kid? How did you survive for so long? Are you some kind of special forces, or secret agent? How do you answer?
  
  > Honestly
  'No, I'm just a young kid, I don't have a job, or any skills that post-zombie invasion humanity would ever possibly require, in fact, I'm quite whiny, I'll never do an honest day's work in my life, and all in all I'm just another mouth to feed' You choke out, confessing it all, feeling yourself changed, matured by the whole experience. Yes, perhaps you would turn your life around.
  
  That is until the special forces guy caps you between the eyes twice. He took the executive decision that you were just another mouth to feed, and would hinder the re-construction of humanity and civilisation from the ashes. When asked about it later, he just says he thought he saw a Zombie move. I think this might be the only non-zombie related death in the game. Dumbass. It's just like Ghostbusters, except they didn't ask you whether you were a God, in fact they gave you a much simpler question: Do you have any redeeming qualities. Your negative answer only proves the point more so. That man was right to shoot you.
  
  Who would've thought it... an unexpected ending that sets up the beginnings of a sequel. Lying underneath that corpse gave you just enough time for some group of useful people to save you! Kitted out in all the useful zombiekilling items you failed to find, they go about killing all the zombies for you. Finally, when all the zombies are smoking remains, you pop your head out and say hi. The leader of the group turns to you and says - hey kid? How did you survive for so long? Are you some kind of special forces, or secret agent? How do you answer?
  
  > lie your ass off
  'Yeah, I was a marine for a while, but then I jacked it in to study the ancient arts of drunken monkey kick boxing' You lie your ass off.
  
  'O.K. Kid. You better come with us.
  
  So that's it folks, you've managed to make it to one of the endings. Not the best, I mean, you did let most of humanity crumble under the pressure of the Zombie invasion, and you did thoroughly embarass yourself at almost every turn, but you did make it out with most of your scrawny chicken body intact. Congrats. I think.