You are a successful businesswoman with 20+ years of experience in the field of plastics. You are running late for work. Your worthless but handsome husband is still asleep.
You are in a kitchen. There is a pot of coffee, an orange, and various kitchen appliances and cabinets here. Exits are west and south.
Pour some of the hot coffee on the lazy husband
Choose the next step:
Search kitchen for kitchen knife. Stab worthless but handsome husband in the heart.
You are now a successful businesswidow.
---
You are a successful businesswidow with 20+ years of experience in the field of plastics. You are even more late for work. Your worthless but handsome husband is now dead.
You are in a kitchen. There is a pot of coffee, an orange, a bloody knife and various kitchen appliances and cabinets here. Exits are west and south.
put on the coffee, we want to boil the knife in it. Paranoid that washing it with plain water will be "too obvious" to anyone inspecting pipe s.
Place the coffee pot and knife in the dishwasher to rinse off the remaining evidence.
Exit to the west and take the city bus to your job at the plastics factory. Explain to the security guard that you were late because the bus was behind schedule.
The security guard is asleep. You should put him in the dishwasher.
>>5
You put the coffee on the coffee maker and turn it on high. You throw the knife into it and quietly watch it slowly boil with your cold, businesswidow eyes.
>>6
After you feel the blood has sufficiently boiled, you take the coffee pot, still holding piping hot bloodcoffee and knife (which still looks pretty bloody, you have to admit) and put it in the dishwasher. You close the dishwasher and turn the dial to RINSE. That should do the trick!
You grab your purse and exit to the west. It's a sunny but brisk fall morning. You decide to take the bus instead of your car. Isn't that what widows do? It takes you a few minutes of fumbling with your phone to figure out the bus schedule, but eventually you make it to work, two hours late.
At the front door, you mumble a lame excuse at the security guard, trying to act normal. You realise you never washed your hands. Or changed your clothes. There could be bloodstains.
>>7
The security guard doesn't care about your excuse, because he's asleep. You make a mental note to add him to the dishwasher.
You are in the lobby of your work building. There is an elevator to the west, staircases going up and down to the north, and bathrooms to the east. The exit is behind you, to the south.
Take the elevator to the top floor.
Jerk off in the elevator before we reach the destination.
Have mental breakdown.
Genuflect
>>9-12
You enter the elevator and press the button for floor 200, the top floor.
"ACCESS DENIED," the elevator says in a friendly but robotic voice. It seems you don't have access privileges to go to that floor. You settle for floor 180, the highest floor for which you have permissions.
As the elevator rises from 1 to 180, you take the opportunity to slip your hand down your businesspants and give yourself some self-pleasure. Mmm. Just as you orgasm, images of your murdered husband start flashing through your head. You burst into tears and fall to the floor on one knee. "What horrible monster have I become?!" you scream to yourself, tearing at your hair.
"DING," says the elevator, matter-of-factly. The doors slide open and you see your boss standing with his hands on his hips.
"About time you got here!" he says angrily. "Well, don't just kneel there, we've got an important meeting to start!"
Exits are east, up or down.
Attend meeting and work the rest of the day as usual.
>>13 The eastward exit leads to the ladies bathroom. You remove some of your blood stained clothes and put them in the trash.
When the janitor arrives, he assumes the blood stains were from heavy minstrel flow. He proceeds to throw the incriminating evidence down the garbage chute.
>>14-15
The rest of the day proceeds as usual. Everything is fine. Everything is normal. Except you're wearing less clothes now. You feel a little cold.
The work day is almost over. You just finished replying to all the important e-mails. You are in your office. There is a stapler here. There is a computer here. There are Important Documents here. There is a locked window here. There is a desk here. There is a painting of a woman riding a horse with world-weary eyes on the east wall.
Exits are south.
Browse DQN on computer.
steal stapler for personal use
Stop and smell the flowers.
Stop and preform autocoprophagia.
Stop and active selfie mode on the Iphone 6s.
Consult with the will of the ancients.
pray to God and the Bear for forgiveness
Unlock window
>>17-18
You open up your favourite website, The Elitist Superstructure of DQN. You browse a bit without posting anything. There's a thread called "You are a successful businesswoman" that looks particularly interesting...suddenly, you are overwhelmed with a desire to continue your life of crime. You look around suspiciously and then grab your stapler and hide it in your purse. Haha! It's yours now!
>>19-20
You stop scheming for a bit to appreciate the flowery smell of your businessperfume. Ahh. The scent of lilies mixed with a tinge of money. But wait. You don't deserve this. You deserve to eat shit. You killed your husband. You take off your businesspants and businesspanties, crouch down on the floor and squeeze out a businessturd. It smells like rancid coffee. You take a small handful and shove it in your mouth, tears streaming down your face. This is what you deserve, you monster. You force yourself to swallow.
>>21
But wait, now's the perfect time to test out your iPhone 6s' selfie mode! Hands and face still covered with shit, you fish your phone out of your purse, open up the camera and take a selfie. You give the camera a shit-eating grin.
>>22
Well, back to browsing the internet. You go to your favourite news website, 4-ch.net/news. Let's see..."A Milwaukee man has been charged with sexually assaulting a 101-year-old woman in her home" ... "Police arrest man over Russia-proof bunker" ... it seems like the news hasn't picked up on your dead husband yet.
>>23-24
You are at a loss of what to do. You decide to ask the God and the Bear for guidance and forgiveness. You lower your head and murmur:
"Dear God. Dear Bear. Show me your will. Show me your forgiveness. Amen."
The God and the Bear have heard your prayer!
Your Luck has increased by 1!
Your HP has increased by 20!
Your standing with the God and The Bear has increased from Rank 1 to Rank 2!
The Bear growls in your mind: "Grrr. Grrrroworl. Grworuwourowul." It's somehow reassuring.
>>25
You need a key to unlock the window. You're not sure where to get one.
Grind for EXP.
Get into an argument online.
Throw computer out the window.
Close window. Turn off computer.
E
Rotate.
Stop rotating.
Tell yourself your beautiful cause you are :)
Go to field of plastics.
Frolic and pick wildflowers.
Sing
Wash up. Go to store and get new clothes to replace old ones. Pay in cash.
>>27
You practice your special dance skill Grind by rubbing your butt sensuously against your desk for a few minutes, imagining dance music in your head.
You have gained 30 EXP towards the Grind skill!
Grind has reached level 2!
You have ranked up from Awkward Grinder to Drunken Cougar.
>>28-31
You open up DQN again and start arguing with some anonymous asshole about feminism. You get angrier and angrier until you decide that defenestration is the only option. You grab your computer (a chunky desktop hiding under your desk) and yank it out. The attached peripherals (monitor, keyboard, mouse, router) clatter to the floor as you try to drag the beast around the desk and out the door. Most of the wires eventually extricate themselves after getting caught on various parts of your desk, except for the mouse, still dangling from the back of the computer. It drags behind you like a misshapen tail. You limp slowly down the hall, cradling your computer, heading slowly to the east window. Your face is still smeared with feces.
It seems that you spent so much time online that everybody else has gone home for the night. Nobody seems to be present to witness your sad parade. Eventually you make it to the east window, which is locked, but that's not going to stop you. You throw the computer at it with all your might. The window cracks a bit, but doesn't shatter. The computer crashes to the ground. You try to pick it up and smash the window again, but there is no strength left in your arms. You try to close the window but it's already closed. You try to turn off the computer but it's already unplugged.
From all the physical exertion, you have gained 20 EXP towards BusinessStrength.
Your endurance has increased a bit.
Your lifting power has increased a bit.
Your stamina has increased a bit.
You can now carry up to 5kg in your purse.
>>32-34
You spin in place. You stop. You gain 3 EXP toward the Rotate skill.
You tell yourself, "I'm beautiful."
Your self-esteem has increased a bit.
>>35-36
The closest field of plastics you can think of is the company warehouse a block away. You go back to your office, grab your purse, and take the elevator back down to the first floor. The security guard is still sleeping. It's dark out, and a little chilly. You wish you hadn't thrown away so many clothes. Fortunately, it's a short walk to the warehouse. Your keycard lets you in. The warehouse is large, dark and smells of plastic and concrete. You frolic among the large crates of plastic and sing a joyous song about plastic.
You have gained 20 EXP towards the Frolic skill!
Frolic has reached level 2!
You have ranked up from Clumsy Rhinoceros to Tumbling Waterfowl.
There are no wildflowers here.
You have gained 5 EXP towards the Sing skill.
>>37
After all this frolicking, you're pretty sweaty. Not to mention all the shit and blood. You take a much-needed shower in the locker room of the warehouse. There aren't any clothing stores open this late. You'll have to wait until tomorrow.
You are in the locker room of a plastics warehouse. You have just taken a shower. You are wearing a towel. There are sets of worker outfits hanging on racks here. There are soiled business clothes here. There are lockers here.
smoke weed everyday
Invite security guard to join us on our adventures.
>>39 Use level 3 lock picking skills on all the lockers. Search all successfully opened lockers for more suitable clothing. Lock picking skills improved. 1500 Exp gained, 500 more Exp will unlock level 4 lock picking skills.
>>40,42
You successfully manage to lockpick 10 out of 30 lockers. The other 20 are unlocked and empty.
You find the following items:
You don the most suitable clothing, the complete set of BusinessWear.
You suddenly feel ready to take on the world.
You take the mysterious plant matter and roll it up into a joint. You smoke it.
It smells a lot like oregano, but you get high anyway.
>>41
With your newfound energy thanks to the drugs and clothes, you head back to the office.
"Hey," you say to the sleeping security guard. "HEY! Wake up!"
"W-whaddaya want, lady?" the security guard says sleepily. You offer him a joint.
"Join me on my adventures," you say.
"Man that shit sound corny as fuck. Pass that shit," he drawls, but with a chuckle in his voice. He lazily reaches out to take the joint. You light it for him.
"Okay, whatever. Tell me more, lady. Uh...what was your name?"
Security guard has joined your party!
> ENTER NAME
"Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche"
"Well, that's an interesting name. Pleased to meetcha, Freddy. As for me, my name is..."
> ENTER NAME
Susan Success
Plan ahead for our next meeting.
Lay the clothing end to end and thoroughly pee on them, then light them on fire and run for the meeting room.
Dog
Remove Dog.
>>46-50
The security guard has introduced himself as "Susan Success." You shake Susan's hand and immediately start planning ahead:
"Meet me here at 9am tomorrow," you say. Susan nods and takes another drag off the joint. "We're going to the warehouse to collect all the clothes, lay them end to end, pee on them, then light them on fire and run away."
Susan agrees this is an excellent plan.
Suddenly, a dog appears.
But as soon as your eyes have registered the magical pup, it's gone again.
Must be that stuff you smoked.
From far away, you hear sirens wailing. They're getting louder.
You are in the lobby of your work building. Susan is here, smoking a mysterious joint. There is an elevator to the west, staircases going up and down to the north, and bathrooms to the east. The exit is behind you, to the south.
Go home. Retrieve knife from dishwasher. Stab worthless but handsome husband's corpse a few more times.
Burn that kush
Ask Susan about the Sirens and the magical pup.
Become cubist. Degauss the enemy. Reintroduce the dog and sit on his tail.
BECOME VERY ANGRY
dispose of corpse in copse
practice your fly-fishing technique indoors
>>53-55
You roll another joint and ask Susan if he knows anything about Sirens and the magical pup.
"Yeah, they're right there!" he says, laughing and leaning back in his seat, the polygon count of which is rapidly decreasing. Your face feels square. The sirens are blaring in your head now. You are surrounded by mermaid cops shouting at you. It's overwhelming. You turn around to find the dog, cubist tail wagging erratically. You sit on the tail.
>>56,58
"FUCK YOU ALL! GO TO HELL!" you scream. You grab a fishing rod and cast it randomly at the Sirens haunting you. They just chuckle and dodge.
>>52
Fuck this shit. You're out of here. You march out of the lobby and somehow manage to find the bus stop. As soon as you get home, you open the dishwasher to find everything miraculously clean, no coffee or blood stains. The knife and coffee pot are still there, so you take the knife and go to stab your husband, who is still rotting in the bedroom, a few more times.
>>57
You try to drag the body to your trunk so you can drive it to a copse, but your businessstrength isn't high enough. You manage to drag him out of bed but can't get him out the door. You collapse to the floor, exhausted. You fall asleep.
DAY 2
Good morning, it's 8AM.
Now what are you gonna do, Freddy?
do businesspushups to get businessstrength
reorganize your trance collection by genre
throw away your trance collection and replace it all with footwork and jungle.
Challenge Susan to a knife fight.
Teach yourself how to fight with knives.
smoke weed everyday
Sparks fly as the knives collide. You and Susan use the sparks to light marijuana joints and chill out. Relaxation +20 Diplomacy +50
We're getting badly off task here!
Run out of the lobby before anyone notices your knife fight.
Lead Susan to the warehouse.
Pee in your BusinessPants and BusinessUndergarments.
Try to pee just enough to soil them thoroughly, without using up all of your pee.
Remove all articles of clothing from yourself and Susan.
Line them up along with the other clothes you found in the lockers, already peed items at the beginning of the line.
Starting at the first unsoiled item, stagger over the clothing at a moderate pace while trying to direct stream by tugging on labia.
Try to manage this so that you can get to the end of the line of clothes as you run out of pee.
Seek to level up Bladder Control and Stream Control during this important exercise.
Ask Susan if he has any moral convictions or reason to live.
If he replies in the negative to both, ask Susan if he is squeamish or respects convention. Also, set the warehouse on fire.
If he replies in the negative, ask Susan if he likes hip beats.
If he replies in the positive, ask Susan to return with you to your apartment.
Return to your apartment, lay out some newspaper and a chair for Susan to sit in, and put on "Hip to be Square".
>>67,68
Too late, a small crowd has already gathered to watch the short fight!
Using your newfound diplomacy skills, you try to ask the crowd to stay quiet about what they've seen.
Susan helps by joking, "don't bother calling security...I'm security!"
Miraculously, everyone laughs and agrees not to make a fuss. You pass out joints to some of them.
You sheath your knives and drive over to the warehouse. You force yourself to businesspee in your clothes. You try not to use up all of your pee, but once you start you can't stop. Your bladder control is still pretty low. You and Susan remove your clothes, line them up, and try to pee on them but you can't bring yourself to get more than a trickle. Fortunately, Susan has a larger bladder and manages to get a good amount of pee on all the clothes.
Your Bladder and Stream Control have increased by 30!
Susan thinks for a moment about your question, then answers, "Yeah, I guess I have a reason to live...not sure what it is though. I don't have any morals though." You ask Susan if he likes hip beats. He says yes. You drive back to your apartment, still naked and smelling of pee. You go to the den and lay out some newspaper and a chair for Susan to sit in and put on a footwork remix of "Hip to be Square." He begins to twerk.
You are in the den. Music is blaring. Exits are north.
exit without alerting Susan
>>70
You quietly slip out of the den. You are now standing in the hallway. Exits are upstairs, downstairs (den), kitchen, living room, and outside.
take shower.
get susan to help you dispose of corpse in copse.
>>72
You take a badly needed shower and put on some casual clothes. Ah, that feels refreshing.
You're about to go back to the den to get Susan's help when there's a loud knock on the door.
"Hey, it's Jimbo! Open up!"
It's your dead husband's brother. What will you do?
not marry someone hick enough to have a brother named Jimbo next time
Changing his name to Dalton
Rutherford
>>74
You make a mental note not to marry any hicks in the future, especially not ones with brothers named "Jimbo."
You open the door and politely invite Jimbo to have some peanuts.
"I'm fine, thanks Friedrich. Where's your husband? I haven't heard from him, we were supposed to go see THE GAME yesterday."
"Hold on, just follow me to my office," you say. Jimbo complies reluctantly. You go to your office and he waits with increasing impatience as you draft a formal legal document to change his name to "Dalton Rutherford," but cover up this intention with complicate legalese. You draw upon your deep experience working with infuriatingly unclear business documents.
"Alright, just sign and date here," you say, handing him a pen.
Jimbo looks suspicious.
"What's this for, anyway?"
It's a formal declaration of faith in God and America.
"It also guarantees you your rightful inheritance should something unbelievably awful happen to your brother. Now Jimbo I'm going to be straight with you, he's gone and gotten himself into trouble again, another one of those crazy business plans...you know how smart he is, as we've both always said too smart and brave for his own good. Well, he's done it this time. He's gone and gotten himself involved with communists. No, no, don't call the police. They have people there too, you know that, Jimbo. Please, sign the paperwork, go home and take care of your family, and Jimbo...listen close here...Jimbo, you take good care of your guns, you maintenance and oil them regularly and you keep one loaded under your pillow. If all goes well, your prayers and vigilance will pay off and he'll be back. If not...well, at least you'll get your share. I know you don't want to think about that, damn it, but those commie lawyers wouldn't let me inherit it all and so the rest goes either to you or to these god damn communists. It's lawyers, you know. I'm fighting them the only way I know how. But from now on, your family, you have to be known as the Rutherfords. You're Dalton Rutherford. It's complicated and I'm sorry to give you such a fruity name but the communists have us in a tight spot and if I don't act carefully they'll rape me. You wouldn't want that, would you Jimbo? Please, sign here and go to the game and don't worry too much. He's a smart guy, he'll pull through yet. DON'T tell anyone, not even your family. I didn't even want to have to tell you. If you know, you're at risk too. Stay safe, Jimbo. God bless you."
See if you can businesspee yet. Try to businesspee just a little in your casual undergarments to level up Bladder Control.
>>80,81
Surprisingly, Jimbo is floored by your eloquence! He agrees to sign the paper.
For your successful persuasion attempt, you have gained 10 Rhetoric points!
You are now a Level 3 Rhetorician!
As Jimbo, henceforth known as Dalton Rutherford, reluctantly signs the paper, you do some Kegel flexes to try to furtively businesspee just a little bit. With enough concentration, a little bit trickles out. You smile cruelly.
Bladder Control has increased by 3!
"Now where is he? I'm really worried about him," says Dalton, obviously oblivious to your secret secretion.
Tell Dalton that his brother is in Siam, in hiding.
Address:
122 Emperor of Siam Way
Bangkok, Siam 65535
Godspeed Dalton!
Stick sewing needles in own eyes.
escape the pain of everyday life
Usher Dalton out.
Let's stay on task: we need to find a way to add Susan to the dishwasher.
Or maybe get him to help with the body first?
If he ends up having some morals after all or panicking, just offer him sex.
What could go wrong?
penis
set house on fire
>>83
"He's hiding in Siam! Let me give you his address," you say, writing down a very realistic looking international address on legal paper with your business pen. "Godspeed."
Dalton takes the card and looks at you suspiciously. He's not falling for it.
>>84
"Gahhhh!" you scream suddenly, grabbing sewing needles (which are conveniently on your desk) and stabbing them into your own eyes. Unfortunately your self-preservation instinct takes over and you close your eyes and don't manage to stab the needles in all the way. It still hurts like hell though. You scream. Dalton looks distressed.
"I think I should call the police," he says, backing away slowly.
>>85,86
Enough of this. Life is too painful. You need to escape. You need to get Dalton out of here and put Susan in the dishwasher.
"Get out, out out out out!" you scream at Dalton. He is sufficiently intimidated and leaves the house! He runs into his truck and starts fiddling with his cellphone. Never mind that. You go down to the den. It seems that Susan has put on some of your dead husband's clothes while you were gone.
"Susan! Help me get rid of a dead body!" you shout, rushing down the stairs.
"What the fuck, I didn't sign up for this," Susan says, suddenly frightened upon seeing your bloody eyes. "I want out."
"Wait, I'll have sex with you!" you scream. Unfortunately, your bleeding eyes have decreased your BusinessSexiness and Susan is not interested. He shoves his way past you and makes a beeline for the exit.
>>87
"Penis!" you shout after him, trying to get him aroused, but it's too late. Susan is already out the door.
>>88
There's nothing left to do but start a fire. But how? You find a box of matches and start lighting the curtains on fire, but you're not sure it's going to spread. What next?
Use hairspray, nail polish remover, hard booze, or whatever flammable liquid is available.
Before that, though, quickly collect any large quantities of cash that are in the house\it might come in handy pretty soon.
Use cardboard boxes, and also with any documents in drawers, take them out and mix and jumble and crumple them up so oxygen gets all in them.
If the fire catches something big like the walls, or it becomes hard to breathe, get out of the house
(After that whole speech you all go and ruin the cover story...)
Get together what money and provisions you can.
Run from house.
Cut hair shorter and place hair in trash can.
Acquire new clothes.
Acquire sunglasses.
Live in the woods for a while.
Put levels in BusinessFeral.
>>90
You find the secret stash of money that you keep hidden under a certain floorboard. You keep it in a duffel bag.
100 $20 bills (total $2000) has been added to your inventory!
You raid your pantry for hard businessliquor. There is a lot of it, after all. You happily spread the businessrum, businessgin, businessvodka and businesswhiskey around the house.
>>91
You start crumbling up papers you find around the house, but it's already getting pretty hard to breathe in here. It's time to get out.
>>92
You stuff some pop tarts and bottles of water into your money duffel bag, as well as a swiss army knife, corkscrew, and granola bars. And a bottle of your finest businesswine. You quickly change into an ugly orange T-Shirt, grey hoodie and old jeans, and put on sunglasses. It is nighttime, so it is very difficult to see now. You use the swiss army knife to slice off your hair and put it in the trashcan, but there's not much point since it's all going to burn.
You run out the back door to avoid detection, and make your way into the woods, which are conveniently right behind your house. You hear sirens, but they grow ever more distant as you dash off into the woods. It's difficult to see with the sunglasses on, but you manage to not trip too much. Eventually, all is silent.
You try to spend the night sleeping on the forest floor. Actually, it's more like laying there, you can't seem to get comfortable enough to sleep. It's also getting pretty cold. You didn't have room to pack a sleeping bag or blanket. To take your mind off the cold, you focus on your inner feral instincts.
"Grrwalrl. Grorowol," you say tentatively. "Grworworoaoll!!!"
BusinessFeral has increased by 5 points!
You can now speak to animals. They won't understand you, but at least you can imagine they do.
Start BusinessCult.
>>94
The weight of your misdeeds hits you like a burlap sack of bricks and propels BusinessTears out of your BusinessTearDucts. As feral and heartless as you are trying to be, a small part of you is still human, and so you BusinessWeep.
>>95
Enough of this nonsense. You are more important than all this. You deserve to be worshipped as a Goddess of Commerce. It's time to start a BusinessCult.
CURRENT MISSION: Start a BusinessCult
OBJECTIVES:
Search for hobos and offer to flash them if they swear fealty. Not the most industrious, but they're sure to know some people.
Build a website for your cult.
>>98
Include a free tour of the single-page website and offer access to a video of you flashing them if they swear their fealty via credit card signup.
>>99
There is no video, there's a page telling them they must gather five other credit disciples under their sacred ref link and then once enough cultists have joined their faith will bring the video into existence. Whoever recruits 25 others will get a spicier bonus video for their faith, and whoever recruits the most can shape their accumulated faith into a living thoughtform mirroring their desires as a reward for their unblinking loyalty.
Bump an old CYOA thread.