It's a normal day, like any other.  You're sitting in your room all alone playing games on your computer and munching on Tums to get rid of your latest milk-induced heartburn.  As you put the container down and then move towards the box of cookies, your bottle of Canada Dry decides to attack your elbow.  Of course, failing, it gets sent flying into your exposed computer case.  Reaching in to try to grab the can and save what's left of the delicious beverage, electricity courses through your body and the world goes black.

---

You wake up later with your head ringing.  As you look up, you realize you're lying on the floor.  But it's not your floor.  In fact, the floor is made out of metal as well as the walls and cieling.  You realize you're in some sort of metallic hallway, but have no knowledge as to how you got there.  The hallway stretches in several directions with various turns, and off in the distance you think you hear the whining of metal on metal.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:24, Sun 21 Jan 2007.

Darting up from the ground to a standing position, I pinch myself in the arm, and realize that it's not a dream. "Ow" i mutter, while rubbing my arm.

Walking around the room I try to remember how I got in this room. "The last thing I remember, I was playing Medieval II Total war, and watching corner gas." I lick my lips and taste the coppery taste of blood. Looking down, I suddenly remember what happened. "MY CANADA DRY,"  Frantically, I search the room, looking for my last bottle.

You find the bottle lying on the ground, as well as several other of your possessions.  Unfortunately, the bottle's totally empty and it seems as though the area around the bottle has become spongey, almost like it had absorbed the moisture.

Frantically, desperate to save my Canada Dry, I take out my pocketknife and try to cut at the spongy area, hoping to salvage the precious few drops that might remain absorbed into the ground.

As you spear the ground, your first two attempts fail as you don't get enough power behind your blow.  On the third attempt, however, you throw your whole body into it and manage to stab your knife all the way down to the hilt in the spongy area.  Liquid spews out randomly in all directions, and you manage to catch a few drops on your tongue and easily recognize it as Canada Dry.  It feels incredibly hot, enough to hurt a little, and as you look down at your clothes you see the liquid beginning to eat through your clothing slowly.

Batting the liquid off, you manage to mostly save your clothing, but your tongue's just a little sore now.  Your knife, on the other hand, is now firmly embedded in the ground which has returned to a fully metallic state.

Cursing at the group, I get on my knees, and I vainly try to remember what i was thinking of. "Oh right, where am I?"  I look around while absentmindedly pulling on my pocketknife with one hand. "By the hand of Zod, you will come free you knife."

You begin tugging on your knife and, after a few seconds of pulling, manage to pull it out.  Albeit, the force required sends you sprawling backwards on your rear.  Right before you decide to stand up, the ground to the right of your head suddenly shoots up in a spike extremely similar to the blade of your knife.  A split second later, another one shoots up at a different part of the ground.

As I see the spike come out of the ground, I immediately remember my martial arts training, and unfortunately, challenge it to a duel. "So that's how we're gonna play eh ground?"

Holding my pocketknife in one hand, I try to charge towards the spike, and beat it into submission.

You furiously attack the spike and, in response to your attack, the spike dissapears into the ground.

A full minute passes with nothing happening; it seems as though you "beat" the ground.  Good job.

As you look down the hallway, you spot several red lights lining a doorway roughly fifty feet down.

Satisfied that the ground was no match for my prowess and courage, i close up my knife and stick it back into my pocket.

As I notice the lights, my brain immediately shuts off, as usual, and instincts take over.  "DEATH TO LIGHTS" my insane brain cries, while my lips mouth the words.

I cautiously walk over to the lights, trying my hardest to keep my insane brain away, and only listen to my instincts.

As you walk towards the lights, they suddenly dissapear and then reappear again another fifty feet down.  All the other lights in the hallway suddenly turn off and it's pure black except for the soft red glow further along.

Clicking noises begin to eminate, seemingly from all-around you.

Refusing to continue playing the game of tag with the lights, I sit down on the ground and listen to the clicking noises, trying to figure out where they are coming from.

As you listen to the clicking noises, your eyes slowly get used to the level of light.  The noises slowly begin to focus to your right.  When you check down that way, you see a section of the wall beginning to bulge outwards.  It's slow, but you think it's growing.

Feeling hungry, I think to myself "I bet that tastes awful, but how do I know if I don't try?"

I run at the bulge in the wall, and try to eat it to fill my growing stomach pains.

As you move to bite the wall, the section erupts and hot, boiling Canada Dry is flung towards you.  Your clothes begin to burn and melt through, and your hands are becoming covered in blisters.

OoC: o_O ooookkkaayyy... that's weird even for you

((What'cha talking bout kris? That aint wierd for me))

Enraged that my precious canada dry has been used as a weapon against me, I renew my attempts to eat the wall once more.