(set: $weapon to "none" )
(set: $nightsinshed to 0 )
The September morning sun beats down on your exposed skin as you arrive at the allotment site, a small gated community of agricultural plots in northern England.
There is so much to do! The strawberry beds need weeding, and it's about time to start digging up some of your potato crops from the ground.
In addition, it looks like your potting shed has an infestation of beetles.
What do you do?
[[Better start with the weeding!]]
[[Dig up some spuds and have chips for tea]]
[[I'll not be able to relax, knowing that beetles are eating my biscuits]]
Get those little buggers out of the ground before they strangle your strawberries and make the place look a mess!
How do you want to do it?
[[I'll dig 'em out with a hoe.-> hoe choice]]
[[I've been meaning to try out my new weed burner! -> burner choice]]There's nothing quite like an hour of backbreaking labour to start the day!
You pick up your fork and dig it into the rich damp earth in search of Mother Nature's nuggets.
[[On with the day!-> what sex]](set: $weapon to "fork" )
No-one likes pests. That's why they're called 'pests.'
Right?
You load up your pesticide spray tank and set out in search of the infestation.
[[On with the day!-> what sex]](set: $weapon to "spray" )(if: $weapon is "hoe")[After an hour's backbreaking work with the hoe, your strawberry patch is almost clear of weeds.
At this rate you'll have something to show the allotment society annual produce competition!
Time for a treat! You reach into the biscuit barrel, only to find that beetles have devoured the lot.]
(else-if: $weapon is "fork")[After an hour's backbreaking work, pulling delicious Casablanca potatoes from the ground, you survey the potential feast laid before you.
There are spuds enough for weeks! You can make chips, crisps, jacket potatoes and roasties.
You feel the first pangs of hunger at the prospect of such delicious potato based treats, and reach into the biscuit barrel - only to find that beetles have devoured the lot.]
(else-if: $weapon is "burner")[After a gleeful hour hypnotised by the the sight of the flames dancing between the strawberry plants and watching the black smoke of incinerated vegetation rise in gentle black wisps, you realise that it's time for a snack.
Regretfully, you place the weed burner to one side and reach into the biscuit barrel, only to find that beetles have devoured the lot!]
(else-if: $weapon is "spray")[You spend an hour squirting pesticides into the farthest nooks and crannies of your potting shed, and watch as the beetles come running out into the open.
They twitch in insectile agony as the powerful neurotoxins do their work. Cooling corpses crackle under your feet as you take a custard cream from the biscuit barrel.
Killing bugs is satisfying, but it's a shame that the rest of your plot is such a mess.]
[You catch sight of your scowling face in the window.
Is it a male face or a female face?]
(link: "Dude! I'm a dude")[(set: $sex to "male")(goto: "what name")]
(link: "I'm a lady of course!")[(set: $sex to "female")(goto: "what name")]
(link: "Having a good set of gardening clothes is what matters. Not what's underneath them.")[(set: $sex to "other")(goto: "what name")]You've been wanting to try out your new toy for a while now, but this is the first time the English weather has allowed it.
You turn on the gas and press the electric starter.
There is a satisfying 'Whumph!' sound as a short, intense blue flame flares into life on the nozzle end.
Embracing your inner pyromaniac, you start to whistle as you get to work.(set: $weapon to "burner" )
[[On with the day-> what sex]] You attack the weeds with a passion. The long handled hoe nipping nimbly between the strawberry plants, and biting into the weeds with its shiny steel blade.(set: $weapon to "hoe" )
[[On with the day-> what sex]] sex is $sex
Of course! How silly of you to have forgotten, but at the age of 81 it's not quite so easy to remember the simple things any more.
Like your throbbing hip, your mind is slowly wearing out, but unfortunately, there's no titanium replacement option for brains.
Sometimes, you find it hard to remember your own name!\n\n" +
Erm... what is your name?
(if: $sex is "male")[
(link: "Dave")[(set: $name to "Dave")(goto: "profession")]
(link: "Bert")[(set: $name to "Bert")(goto: "profession")]
(link: "Jimbo")[(set: $name to "Jimbo")(goto: "profession")]
[[Something else->type name]]]
(else-if: $sex is "female")[
(link: "Donna")[(set: $name to "Donna")(goto: "profession")]
(link: "Kate")[(set: $name to "Kate")(goto: "profession")]
(link: "Lizzie")[(set: $name to "Lizzie")(goto: "profession")]
[[Something else->type name]]]
(else-if: $sex is "other")[
(link: "Pete")[(set: $name to "Pete")(goto: "profession")]
(link: "Alice")[(set: $name to "Alice")(goto: "profession")]
(link: "Shelagh")[(set: $name to "Shelagh")(goto: "profession")]
[[Something else->type name]]]Hmmm, $name is it? Very fashionable eight decades ago, I'm sure. But it doesn't really fit in now.
Before you retired you knew dozens of people called $name. Oh well, fashions come and go. Maybe there will be more people called $name in the next generation.
What field did you used to work in ?
(link: "I was the top heart surgeon of my generation, don't you know!")[(set: $career to "surgeon")(goto: "composting1")]
(link: "Actually, I won fame as a professional athlete")[(set: $career to "athlete")(goto: "composting1")]
(link: "I worked on supermarket checkouts all my life")[(set: $career to "checkout")(goto: "composting1")]
(link: "Construction work. Building the biggest houses and factories in Europe.")[(set: $career to "construction")(goto: "composting1")]
(set: $name to (prompt: "What is your name, Oh mighty Gardener?", ""))
[[Carry on...->profession]]Well, $name, regardless of how great you were in your former life, everyone's the same on the allotments, looking after their small patches of land in the twilight of their years, and coaxing the earth into giving up the greatest, most flavoursome fruit and veg it possibly can.
It'll be autumn in a few months, and you will be preparing the plot for cold weather - covering the raised beds with weed suppressant fabric and churning compost into the soil to provide nutrients for your winter vegetables.
You take the lid off your compost bin to take a look at how well it's rotting down.
There seems to be some unusual activity among the worms. They seem... fatter than usual.
That can only be good, as their digestive processes transform vegetable matter into rich mulch, but there also seems to be some sort of frantic activity.
[[Take a closer look at what's going on in there->composting2]]
[[Ignore it. They're only stupid worms!]]You adjust your bifocal glasses, and peer closer at the writhing mass of worms. They seem to be struggling together, writhing around one unlucky worm in the middle.
It's still alive, but it is obvious to you from the blood spatter being thrown into the warm air that the bigger worms are eating their companion. They are gnawing chunks of flesh and pulling the still living tissue into their already engorged bodies.
That can't be right. Worms don't eat living flesh
Oh my! Look at those teeth!
[[Back away slowly->compostingBackAway]]
[[Lean in for a closer look->compostingDeathPrelim]]
[[Attempt to destroy the mass of worms with your $weapon->compostingDeathPrelim2]]You shrug your tired shoulders and turn your back on the compost bin.
What worms get up to in their own time is none of your business, and if they want to have a worm orgy, that's up to them.
You sniff the faint metal tang of blood amid the earthy, peat smells you've come to associate with your plot, and stop dead in your tracks seconds before you hear a shriek, and a heavy sinuous object lands at your feet.
[[Oh no!->compostingFight]]You back away nervously. This really shouldn't be happening, and you resolve to check the BBC for news of any new invasive species known to be threatening the usually gentle native British creatures.
Has the weather taken a turn for the worse? Either way, it's probably time you were going home.
You keep an eye on the seething compost bin, and dodge to the side as the largest worm looks up from its meal, hisses, and launches itself at you.
It lands in the dirt at your feet and looks ready to attack!
[[Oh no!->compostingFight]]You peer closer at the organic knot of annelids, more curious than disgusted. You know that you should be frightened, but you're not.
Your lifelong love of David Attenborough nature programmes has given you a strong stomach, while your addiction to Steve Irwin documentaries has given you an unfortunate tendency to get far, far too close to dangerous creatures.
Without warning, one of the worms launches itself at your face, springing with a power and grace you would not have thought possible. You stumble backwards to the hard ground, winded and unable to move as the annelid probes your exposed face for accessible orifices.
[[Oh no!->compostingdeath1]]Your lip curls with disgust. This is unnatural and should not be allowed to continue. If the worms are eating each other, who's going to be converting your garden waste to mulch?
It's far better that you should end this now, and start afresh with a new batch of worms from a different area of the allotment site.
Grimacing, you raise your $weapon and line it up on the central mass of carnivorous worms, but before you can strike, the largest, most powerful of the mutants raises its ugly head towards you and hisses through misshapen jaws.
Without further warning, it launches itself at your face, springing with a power and grace you would not have thought possible. You stumble backwards to the hard ground, winded and unable to move as the annelid probes your exposed face for accessible orifices.
[[Oh no!->compostingdeath1]]It seems that the worm king secreted some king paralysing agent into your bloodstream, and you are unable to move as it forces its way up your nasal cavity.
Even as it chews through the base of your skull, you regret not using your $weapon to destroy the nest when you had the chance.
The agony is almost unbearable as the worm forces itself into your skull and plugs the hole with its enormous length, leaving the tip of its tail dangling from your left nostril.
Slowly and jerkily, you rise from the ground, looking left and right. Your movements are not your own, and even your breathing is under the control of this alien creature.
The game is over for you, and you can only watch helplessly as countless others perish at your hand
[[Try again...->Start]]The worm raises its head, displaying sharp, curved teeth.
It has evidently become bored with devouring its smaller cousin, and aims to take down some larger prey.
The worm weaves hypnotically - ready to dodge or strike.
[[Attack the worm with your $weapon->compostingFight3]]
[[Run back to your shed and lock yourself inside until help comes.->hideinshed]]
[[Stamp on the worm. It's only a bloody worm for God's sake->compostingDeathPrelim3]](if: $weapon is "fork")[The four pronged gardening fork is heavy in your hands as you line it up on the swaying body of the worm. Even without eyes, you can sense it watching you, trying to determine what you will do next.
Cold sweat drips down your forehead, evaporating in the summer heat. Deep in your bones, you know that this is where you live or die.
Without taking your eyes off the mutant you raise the fork and bring and use your superior STRENGTH to bring it down on the beast's body, impaling it on one of the tines.
The worm bucks and convulses as it struggles for survival, but you hold it pinned to the ground. Slowly the life leaves its body and you breathe a sigh of relief.]
(else-if: $weapon is "hoe")[As the worm dances hypnotically before you, you twirl the razor-edged garden hoe, in an emulation of a Bruce Lee film you saw once.
Your attempt to intimidate the creature fails, and you narrowly avoid hitting yourself on the back of the head with your makeshift weapon.
Even without eyes, you can sense it watching you, trying to determine what you will do next.
Cold sweat drips down your forehead, evaporating in the summer heat. Deep in your bones, you know that this is where you live or die.
Without taking your eyes off the mutant you dispense with any martial arts trickery and use your superior SPEED to jab swiftly forwards at where the worm's neck would be - if it had one.
The blade slices cleanly through its body, and gouts of blood spurt into the air. The worm's corpse twitches for a moment and lies still. Its head seems to stare sightless malevolence towards you.
Slowly the life leaves its body and you breathe a sigh of relief]
(else-if: $weapon is "burner")[The worm seems suddenly wary, as if it knows the massive DAMAGE your weed burner can inflict on its fragile, fluid filled body.
It appears to back away slightly, as the flame comes to life. The mutant coils and springs at your throat, but too late!
You channel your inner Mad Max as you flick the switch on your burner, increasing the propane flow to maximum, and catch the worm in mid flight.
The blood engorging its body boils into steam within a fraction of a second and vaporises. Its skin crisps and explodes, before falling to the ground.
The charred remains of the mutated worm twitch for a second and then are still.
The life has left its body and you breathe a sigh of relief]
(else-if: $weapon is "spray")[You frantically pump up the pressure on the bug spray canister, wishing that you had had the foresight to prepare properly before you took it out of the shed.
The worm dances hypnotically before you. Even without eyes, you can sense it is watching you, trying to determine what you will do next
Cold sweat drips down your forehead, evaporating in the summer heat. Deep in your bones, you know that this is where you live or die.
You squeeze the trigger, and a jet of poison lances out towards the mutated creature. It attempts to dodge, but is no match for your superior speed!
The abomination writhes in agony as the pesticide boils its skin, and essential nerve linkages sputter and shut down within its primitive brain.
Its body is no longer under its control, and whatever it is that passes for lungs within a worm, ceases to function.
Eventually, it twitches and is still. The life has left its body and you breathe a sigh of relief]
[[This is seriously uncool->composting2a]] You bolt the door behind you, and fill the kettle with bottled water. (if: $wormskilled is "yes")[Your hands are shaking from the shock of your deadly combat with the mutated worm and you'd move heaven and earth for a rich tea biscuit right now.]
(else:)[Your hands are shaking from the shock of ywhat you just saw.
What was it you saw anyway. Just a worm, surely. You'd move heaven and earth for a rich tea biscuit right now.]
There are more than 40 pounds of onions in the shed and if the situation does turn bad you know that you can survive in here indefinitely.
You brew up a cup of tea and sip it pensively before deciding what to do.
[[Venture outside to find out what's going on...->venture outside]]
(if: $career is "athlete")[You raise your booted foot and bring it down hard on the revolting creature. It tries to dodge out of the way with an alarming speed, but your career as a professional athlete means that your reactions are quicker, and you pin its body to the ground, examining it dispassionately before pressing your full weight down.
The worm's body bursts in the way that only a creature with a hydrostatic skeleton truly can, leaving thick red fluid all across the toes of your beautiful green Wellington boots.
You know in your heart that it was just a worm and that this was a shallow and pointless victory, but you cannot escape the feeling that you only just escaped with your life.(set: $wormskilled to "yes")
[[That was close!->composting2a]]]
(else:)[You raise your booted foot and bring it down hard on the revolting creature... at least on where it was a second ago!
You weren't quick enough, and the worm has successfully dodged out of your way, leaving you to slip on a patch of mud and land flat on your back, winded and out of breath.
Even as you struggle to take in air, you can feel the worm's sinuous length quickly moving up your body towards your face, probing for available orifices.
[[Oh no!->compostingdeath1]]]Shakily, you make your way towards the gate which leads from your plot to the rest of the allotment site.
For some reason, you thought it was a good idea to pick a plot as far away from the main entrance as possible. Maybe it's because you like the isolation, more likely it's because you like poking your nose into other people's business as you walk past.
Either way, you can see yourself coming to regret that decision in the near future.
[[Best get going then...->part2start]]Hiding in your shed was a foolish idea. After all, worms are harmless to humans, regardless of how many teeth they have.
You consider what to do next. The apple trees will need cutting back soon, and the damsons...
You freeze as you study the branches of the damson tree. There is blood on the bark, and the decapitated head of a thrush dangles from its nest.
As you stare in horror at the gruesome spectacle, you see a mutated worm slither down the trunk, leaving a trail of gore in its wake. It reaches the ground and quickly makes its way through the undergrowth towards you, pausing a short distance away and rearing its ugly misshapen head.
[[What the hell is going on?->compostingFight2]](set: $nightsinshed +=1)
(if: $nightsinshed <2)[You have spent one night sleeping in your shed.
(else:)You have spent $nightsinshed nights sleeping in your shed.]
(if: $career is "checkout")[Fortunately, your high boredom threshold from decades working on supermarket checkouts keeps you from slowly losing your mind.]
(else:)[Your boredom levels are rising]
(set: $wormchance to (random: 1,4))
wormchance is $wormchance
(if: $wormchance is 4)[poop]
(else:)[fart]
(set: $nightsinshed +=1)
nights in shed: $nightsinshed
(if: $nightsinshed <5)[[shed]]
(if: $nightsinshed >4)[[stay another night]]
This situation is above and beyond anything you've ever experienced before.
The most exciting thing that's ever happened here was when persons unknown dumped a vanload of used feminine hygiene products on one of the empty plots.
Tidying that up wasn't much fun for anyone, but you would much rather deal with an unsavoury cleanup than face what is in front of you now!
The worm stands balanced on its tail waiting for you to make the first move. As you stare at the disgusting abomination, you notice several unusual features
In addition to the gaping maw and jagged teeth, you see that it has a band of muscle near its posterior, already tensed as if to spring at its victims and a cluster of long tendrils near its nose, waving in the soft summer breeze.
Whether these are to aid a previously unknown sense of smell or are for some more sinister purpose, you can't even guess.
[[Attack the worm with your $weapon!->compostingFight3]]
[[Stamp on the worm with your heavy gardening boots->compostingDeathPrelim3]]
[[Ignore the worm. Garden creatures shouldn't scare you, regardless of how many teeth they have!->compostingDeathPrelim4]]Double-click this passage to edit it.Double-click this passage to edit it.You shrug your shoulder nervously and give the mutated worm one last quizzical look. You feel ashamed that you were so scared of such a small creature. After all, how could it harm you?
(if: $nightsinshed >0)[You're even more embarrassed that you resorted to sleeping in your shed and eating raw onions. People will be worried about you.]
It's time to go home. Even though you've managed to convince yourself that the unusual worms are harmless, you're still disquieted by their presence and decide to look them up in your 'Big Book Of Invertebrates' as soon as you've had a cup of tea and a hob nob. You turn towards the gate of your plot.
As you stride towards the exit, you feel a sinuous, moist mass land on your back, which quickly slithers around your neck to your face. You are overcome with a sudden weakness and fall to the ground.
[[Oh no!->compostingdeath1]] It is only a few hundred yards to the main entrance, but the most direct route leads through narrow pathways with overhanging trees. If one of the killer worms gets the drop on you there, you won't have much time to react or room to manoeuvre.
The other route is longer, but will take you along a wide path designed to be accessible to cars and vans bringing material to the plots and taking away produce.";
[[Take the more direct route. The sooner you're back home with a cup of tea, the better!->directRoute1]]
[[Take the longer route, you'll be able to see any potential threats before they become a danger to you.->wideRoute]]The harder you think about it, the more convinced you are that you made the right choice. A brisk walk should see you to the exit in a matter of minutes.
You hesitate before starting your journey, scanning the path for movement, and the overhanging trees for anything out of the ordinary.
There is a sudden burst of activity overhead and a flock of starlings takes flight. Is this part of their natural behaviour or were they disturbed by something more sinister?
You just don't know.
On either side of the path, there are gated plots leased to other gardeners. The site seems unusually empty today, with shed doors bolted and padlocked against intruders and thieves.
Are you sure you want to take the narrow path?
[[Hell yes! Get me out of here as quickly a possible->directRoute2]]
[[Actually I'm having second thoughts. I'll take the wider route.->wideRoute]] The path is wide in front of you and could easily accomodate two vans parked side by side. From here it stretches for a few tens of feet before turning left.
There is a car parked near the corner - an orange Toyota Corolla from the early 1970s. You can't remember who it belongs to, but there's a chance that the owner is still on the site.
Immediately to your left, the direct route to the gate lies, forbidding and tempting simultaneously, with dark trees overhanging the path.
Are you sure you want to take the longer route?
[[Absolutely! It seems safer this way.->wideRoute2]]
[[Hell no! The more direct route will get me home far quicker.->directRoute1]]The air is cool against your skin as you grip your $weapon and step onto the narrow path. You shiver involuntarily and feel as if you are being watched by hundreds of unseen, hungry eyes.
Not eyes, you tell yourself. The worms may have razor sharp teeth and coiled strength which allows them to spring up to face height in a single instant, but they don't have eyes. They can't actually see you.
Can they smell you?
The surface of the path is dusty and partially covered with loose dried grass and bark. Every few dozen feet, there is an ancient enamelled tin bath, pressed into service as a water butt.
They stand almost empty thanks to the unusually long spell of dry weather.
In the middle distance, you can see the gate which will let you out of the site.
If your creaking bones can stand the strain, you estimate you can sprint straight for it, and be safe and sound in a matter of minutes
[[I'll make a run for it. The sooner I'm out of here, the sooner I'm safe!->sprintDeathprelim]]
[[Take it slow and cautious, who knows what could be lurking between the shattered greenhouses?->directSlow1]](if: $career is "athlete")[Physical fitness is your forte. From the age of eight you have trained for athletic competitions, waking at five every morning to go running in the bleak pre-dawn light. After school you trained on the track, and you took title after title at the local, national, and international level.
Eventually, you qualified for the Olympic team, and fought your way through to the finals of the triathlon at the age of 22, facing off against a sinister blond Russian to take the gold medal. You have the eye of the tiger and you know it.
Even after you retired from professional sports at the age of 28, you kept yourself in shape, and endured a brutal physical routine. You play football for the local over 60s team, and go on long distance hikes up among frozen peaks of the Welsh mountains.
A short sprint is nothing to you, you tell yourself.
[[Go for it!->bathDeath]]]
(else:)[You've never been particularly fit. In your younger days, you used to play golf a few times every week, but now even that is beyond you. Digging and hoeing is the only exercise you get nowadays.
Nonetheless, you are convinced that you can make it to the gate. You will deal with the consequences later.
You cast your mind back to your school days and the hated PE lessons, run by sadistic and absent-minded teachers who loved nothing more than to bully small children into pushing themselves to their physical limit and beyond.
If only you had paid more attention!
You make a half hearted attempt at warm-up exercises, and steel yourself to move.
[[Go for it!->unfitSprintDeath]]]Cautiously, you creep forward, as silent as the predator in the 1987 American science fiction film, 'Predator', but are you the hunter or the hunted?
You skirt the enamelled bath tubs, and keep checking around for any signs of movement.
A flash of brightly coloured cloth from one of the plots on the left catches your eye and you freeze motionless, before letting out a sigh of relief.
It's Iain, the site secretary. He's been recently been in hospital with a hernia, but it looks like he's back now, and is standing in the middle of his cabbage patch, as if wondering where to start.
Perhaps Iain is unaware of the threat posed by the unknown worm species. You really should alert him to the danger.
[[Approach Iain, tell him what's going on and enlist his help in getting the hell away!->approachIain]]
[[Sneak past, maybe Iain will distract the worms, allowing you a clean getaway.->sneakPastIain]]You steel your nerves to make a mad dash for the gate, stretching your limbs the way you do before any athletic competition. You breathe deeply and steadily, building up oxygen levels in your muscles, and putting yourself into 'the zone'.
Smiling with the reminiscence of times gone by, when your body was at the peak of its physical prowess, and you were idolised by millions, you crouch down as if on starting blocks.
With an explosive burst of power, you leap forwards - eyes on the prize before you, and hear the roar of adoring crowds above the rush of blood in your ears.
Your eyes should have been on the ground instead.
You slip on a loose patch of dried grass and stumble forwards, arms windmilling as you struggle to regain your balance.
[[This doesn't look good...->bathDeathFinal]]Much to your surprise, your aged muscles obey the urgent messages sent by your brain and you surge forwards.
Past the enamel bathtubs, and past the twisted wreckage of greenhouses left shattered by a winter storm.
Your legs pound almost as hard as your heart as you close the distance between you and blessed escape.
Almost.
Your heart, too, is responding to the massive adreneline dump and forcing dangerous volumes of blood through arteries hardened and narrowed by far too many chippy dinners and late nights in the pub.
Somewhere in your body, a chunk of arterial plaque tears itself loose and enters the bloodstream, pushed along with the wild current towards your coronary artery.
You feel a sudden pain in your chest. Shocking in its intensity. The rhythmic pounding in your ears stops. You take two more steps forward and collapse to the ground, and your vision fades to black.
Someone once told you that hearing is the last sense to fail in a dying brain, and you are about to learn first hand that this is indeed true.
As you lie face down on the warm earth, you hear faint slithering sounds coming towards you.
[[Try again->Start]] You are unable to control your course and your hip smashes into a half rotted tree stump. You were travelling far too fast and ricochet off to the other side of the path, helpless as you trip and fall headlong into an abandoned and half-filled bath.
Your head slams into the metal, and you are rendered instantly unconscious. You are blissfully unaware as your lungs fill with water, and without fanfare life slowly leaves your body.
[[Try again->Start]] It's considered terrible manners to enter another gardener's plot without permission, but you feel that the circumstances justify this gross breach of etiquette. You do not wish to attract any unwanted attention by calling to him from outside his ricketty gate.
You quietly approach Iain from behind, and as subtly as you can, cough gently to attract his attention.
Iain turns towards you, but instead of his normally jovial grin, you see a grimace spread across his features and he bares his teeth
There appears to be something protruding from his left nostril.
[[[Assume Iain's pained expression is due to your trespass, and hastily apologise->iainApologyDeath]]
[[Back away slowly->backAwayFromIain]]
[[Attack Ian with your $weapon!->iainFight2]]
(if: $career is "surgeon")[[(SURGEON) Remove the object from Iain's left nostril->iainSurgeon]]You lower yourself to the ground and crawl using your elbows like you've seen in so many WWII movies.
After a failed attempt to grip the $weapon between your teeth, you realise you will have to leave it behind you.
No matter, you are almost at the main site entrance. You're practically home already.
There is a rustling ahead of you, and you hold your breath and try to stay motionless.
Your worst fears are realised as a mutated worm raises its head before you and sniffs the air, filaments extended from its head and swaying gently in the summer breeze.
Cautiously the worm turns towards where you are lying motionless - as if uncertain whether anyone is there, and then, more confidently begins to move in your direction.
It gains speed and raises itself to its full height. Clearly, this is the king of the worms.
Without warning, the creature spits venom into your face!
[[Oh No!->compostingdeath1]] "I'm so sorry for intruding, Iain, you start to say. Before you can go any further, Iain lurches towards you, an unholy light in his eyes, and a groan comes from between his teeth, quickly transforming into a malevolent hiss.
You now notice that there is a tinge of red around his mouth and can see that he has been chewing his own tongue.
Blood spills from between his yellowed stumps and the creature which used to be the allotment site secretary grasps your shoulder in an iron grip.
You are unable to move as he drags you towards his gaping maw. There is no trace of humanity left in him, and no hint of mercy in his eyes.
You can only struggle helplessly as his teeth bite into your neck.
[[You Died->Start]] You instantly realise that something is wrong. Whoever this is, it isn't Iain. At least not any more.
Hoping desperately that if you leave now, you'll be able to make it safely away, you start to back off.
The shambling corpse lurches horrifically and its mouth gapes open to reveal that it has been chewing on its own tongue, blood spills out of the ruined lips, spoiling the stylish Paisley patterned shirt.
The monster which used to be the allotment site secretary lashes out an arm towards you.";
[[Stand still - frozen in terror->runFromIain]]
[[Attempt to fight Iain!->iainFight]](if: $weapon is "spray")[The bug spray canister is already pressurised, and you bring the nozzle up - aiming at Iain's face. What good it will do against a snarling, aggressive zombie, you have no idea, but it's the only option now available and you have to try.
The spray makes a barely audible hissing sound and the liquid squirts into the creature's face. It lets out a roar and misses its next lunge, as its eyes turn cloudy. The zombie is blind and essentially helpless.]
(else-if: $weapon is "fork")[Limping slightly from the excruciating pain in your foot, you are slow to react as the zombie lashes out at you again.
You parry its outstretched arm and are almost pushed backwards as the walking corpse strains to reach you.
Your superior strength wins out and you manage to shove the zombie away from you. You swing your weapon in a wide circle, while the monster attempts to recover its balance, and slam the flat edge of the garden fork into its spine.
There is an audible crack and the zombie collapses to the ground. It may be the reanimated undead, but even zombies can't chase you with a broken back.
Although it flails its arms and gnashes its teeth, the creature is now essentially harmless.]
(else-if: $weapon is "burner")[Hobbling on your injured foot, you limp backwards as you struggle to ignite the weed burner.
As the zombie leans forward to grab your throat, the makeshift weapon roars into life. Instantly, the zombie backs off, it seems that this one is terrified of fire.
You press forward until the monster is cornered by the fence and let the flame play across a stack of twigs and kindling.
The zombie stays still, unable to retreat further, and evidently terrified of the burning mass of vegetation.
The fire will last for at least five minutes giving you more than enough time to escape.]
(else-if: $weapon is "hoe")[You brandish the garden hoe in front of you, not bothering with any Kung Fu theatrics - you'd probably only hurt yourself anyway.
With your astonishing speed and dexterity, you slice cleanly through the zombie's wrists before it even has a chance to react.
There isn't as much blood as you imagined there would be, and without hands the zombie has no chance of grabbing hold of you to bite your neck as it clearly wants to do.
For good measure you smash the blade into its mouth, snapping its teeth to stubs.
The zombie is now essentially harmless.]
[[Finish him!->murderIain]]
[[Sneak out while the going is good.->sneakOutIain]]It says a lot about your humanity that you cannot use your $weapon against a man who used to be your friend - regardless of what is currently controlling his body.
You turn to run, but Iain's walking corpse is faster than you are. Iain lurches towards you, an unholy light is in his eyes, and a groan comes from between his teeth, quickly transforming into a malevolent hiss.
Blood spills from between his yellowed stumps and the creature formerly known as the allotment site secretary grasps your shoulder in an iron grip, and can only struggle helplessly as his teeth bite into your neck.
[[Play again!->Start]]You jerk backwards, narrowly avoiding Iain's dirt-encrusted fingernails. He is behaving exactly as you remember zombies from the old George Romero pictures.
Despite his obvious speed, it is evident to you that this is what he has become. Perhaps it has something to do with the worms!
You don't want to physically harm this the shell of what used to be Iain by using your $weapon against him, but you need to disable him somehow!
"Sorry about this, Iain," you say as you pull your leg back.
You stare into his soulless eyes, and slam your foot into his crotch, expecting him to double over instantly at your feet.
There is no reaction beyond a crunching sound from his trouser department, and a terrible pain spreading out from your ankle.
[[Run Away!->runFromIain]]
[[Attack Iain with your $weapon!->iainFight2]]
(set: $bodycount +=1)(if: $weapon is "hoe")[The zombie is helpless and poses no threat to you. Blood pours from its smashed mouth and drips from its severed wrists.
You know that you could simply walk away and shut the gate to Iain's plot behind you. You would be safe for now, but the thought of what that creature has done to Iain stokes your rage until you are in a blind fury.
You jab forward with the hoe once more - forcing the sharpened edge further and further back. The zombie chokes and struggles, but you are without remorse.
With a final shove, the blade breaks through the back of its head.
There is a frantic burst of activity, and for a moment, you think you see a flash of humanity reappear in the zombie's eyes. You cannot be sure and it quickly fades as the last vestiges of life vacate the corpse](else-if: $weapon is "burner")[The zombie is helpless and poses no threat to you. It cowers in the corner, but has no chance of reaching you over the flames.
You know that you could simply walk away and shut the gate to Iain's plot behind you. You would be safe for now, but the thought of what that creature has done to Iain stokes your rage until you are in a blind fury.
You reach over the small bonfire and using the superior reach of the long-nozzled burner, let the flames play over Iain's ruined Paisley shirt.
The zombie gibbers and howls as its clothing and fat catches fire, and you concentrate the flames on its face and throat.
Eventually, it collapses to the ground, and in its final instant, you think you see a flash of humanity reappear in the zombie's eyes. You cannot be sure and it quickly fades as the last vestiges of life vacate the corpse](else-if: $weapon is "fork")[The zombie is helpless and poses no threat to you. It lies thrashing on the floor, but has no chance of reaching you.
You know that you could simply walk away and shut the gate to Iain's plot behind you. You would be safe for now, but the thought of what that creature has done to Iain stokes your rage until you are in a blind fury.
Raising the fork above your head you bring it crashing down upon Iain's undefended chest skewering him through the heart.
There is a frantic burst of activity, and for a moment, you think you see a flash of humanity reappear in the zombie's eyes.
You cannot be sure and it quickly fades as the last vestiges of life vacate the corpse](else-if: $weapon is "spray")[The zombie is helpless and poses no threat to you. It can't see and is repeatedly banging into objects and damaging itself as it attempts to locate you
You know that you could simply walk away and shut the gate to Iain's plot behind you. You would be safe for now, but the thought of what that creature has done to Iain stokes your rage until you are in a blind fury. You pick up a rock and stride across to the zombie.
Raising the rock above your head you bring it crashing down upon Iain's undefended skull, knocking the creature to the ground.
Again again you smash the hard granite down, until there is nothing left but pulp.]
[[Poor Iain->afterIain]] You could easily have finished the zombie off but chose not to. It is injured, but you feel reassured in your humanity, knowing that if a medical cure exists, Iain will thank you when he becomes himself again.
[[Continue->afterIain]]You leave the sad remains of Iain on his plot and creep slowly up the narrow path, ever alert for the possibility of more worms or worm controlled zombies.
You breathe a sigh of relief when you make in unscathed to the end. Between you and the gates there are four people standing side by side on thetrack, blocking your route. Their heads loll vacantly to one side, and you suspect that they have taken over by the parasitic worms!
Pausing for a moment to catch your breath and observe the strangers. Your worst fears are confirmed. The four individuals ARE zombies, and you can see the worm tails protruding from their nostrils.
They do not appear to have noticed you and are aimlessly circling one another.
[[Attempt to sneak by the zombie mob.->sneakmob2]]
[[Attack them with your $weapon->attackMob]] The sunshine is bright, and everything seems right with the world as you step out onto the wide path.
The day is so idyllic that you can barely believe how terrified you were only moments before. Surely it must have been a figment of your imagination.
Nothing could possibly harm you here.
Your mood improves and you start whistling to stave off the the last vestiges of fear.
Birds are singing in the trees and you can see Scotch Ray, a moustachioed older gentleman from Aberdeen, wearing a corked Australian-style hat, and about to empty a wheelbarrow load of couch grass into his compost bin.
The Corolla must be his car.
[[Warn Ray about the worms->warnRay1]]
[[Mind your own business->rayMindBusiness]]You're not entirely sure how to broach such a bizarre subject. Dangerous mutated worms on an allotment site? Surely he'd just laugh at you!
Regardless, you feel that you have some sort of obligation. After all, you felt severely threatened by the aggressive creatures and you're worried that your fellow gardener could come to some kind of harm.
You clear your throat to call out to Ray.
[[Call out...->warnRay2]]You clear your throat loudly and prepare to speak. Scottish Ray has already removed the top from his compost bin and is peering curiously at the contents, obviously intrigued by what he sees.
"Morning, Ray! You might want to take a step back from there!" you call out.
Ray straightens up and turns his attention towards you - oblivious to the coiled menace rising from the compost behind him.
Distracted by your greeting, Ray fails to notice the worm leaping through the air towards him.
The creature lands on his shoulder, and quickly works its way around his neck, forcing its sinuous body up Ray's nose. Ray collapses to the ground, twitching.
[[Help Ray and find out what happened.->examineRay]]
[[Get away from here!->rayTwitching]]The light has gone from Ray's eyes, but his limbs are still twitching. And the humorous hat which you always associated with the big man lies abandoned a few feet away from him.
Gradually, the shudders subside, and Ray gets jerkily to his feet.
The Scotsman moves as if his limbs are no longer under his control, and lashes out at you!
[[Turn and run->runFromRay]]
[[Attack Ray with your $weapon->rayFight]]You turn to run! Whatever has happened to Ray has obviously made him super aggressive, and you can see a hatred for all of mankind burning in his eyes.
Could it be that the worm has somehow taken over his body?
Distracted by these thoughts, you fail to pay attention to the location of your $weapon, and get it caught between your legs.
You trip, and tumble to the ground.
[[How unfortunate...->killedByRay]]You're not entirely sure how much of an effect a $weapon will have on a man Ray's size, but you're willing to find out as you hastily line up your weapon at him.
(if: $weapon is "burner")["The burner is weightless in your hands, and bucks slightly as you flick the ignition.
If you had hoped zombies would be scared of fire, you were dead wrong, as Ray's walking corpse seems to be only wary of the flames.
You jab his burning nozzle towards the monster's huge belly, but it seems immune to the pain caused by the its crisping skin. A sweet smell, similar to bacon, permeates the air
Desperate now, you push the burner into Ray's face. You didn't want to do this, but he has left you no choice.
The staggering gardener's magnificent facial hair catches alight, followed by his eyelashes and his eyebrows.
Melted flesh drips from his forehead and hangs over his eyes. If Ray ever becomes himself again, You are sure that doctors could probably save his sight.](else-if: $weapon is "hoe")[You twirl the hoe masterfully in your hands. Maybe it's because you are facing a human shaped opponent now, but you feel that you have been somehow blessed with the legendary skills of Donatello - the purple clad turtle from 'Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.'
Ray's worm-controlled corpse seems baffled by your legendary martial arms moves, as you dance around him, landing blow after blow on its arms legs and torso.
You feel like you could keep this up for days, but after a short while it becomes obvious that you don't need to. The zombie has become disorientated and dizzy. Stumbling dazed in small circles.](else-if: $weapon is "fork")[A garden fork is not a precision weapon. but it is capable of causing devastating amounts of damage. Ray was your friend - or at least an acquaintance with whom you were on good terms. You don't particularly want to harm his body more than is absolutely necessary.
After all, medical science may find a way to help him reclaim ownership one day.
With a swing of your arm, you slam the fork into the back of the Zombie's legs knocking it to the floor and then pin it face down to the floor while you rush into Ray's shed. You feel sure that he would forgive you this one trespass.
After rooting around in Ray's seed drawer, you find a packet of cable ties and quickly bind the zombie's wrists behind it, then retrieve your fork.
To your horror, the zombie manages to lift itself from the floor, but is unable to free its hands.](else-if: $weapon is "spray")[It is immediately obvious to you what needs to be done if you are going to make it off Ray's plot alive, and you fire the bug spray into the eyes of the walking corpse which used to be Scotch Ray, hoping to blind it.
Unfortunately, the liquid is instantly absorbed by his legendary facial hair and eyebrows, and none makes it into his eyes.
Thinking quickly, you empty most of the remaining liquid into the parched earth at the monster's feet as it lunges at you once more.
Ray trips and falls onto his back, the wind knocked out of him, allowing you to force the nozzle between his teeth and pull the trigger once more.
The zombie instantly starts coughing and clawing at its throat trying to get rid of the foul taste of the pesticide. It turns its back on you as it reaches into its throat.]
For now, the monster is incapable of harming you
[[Give it a quick kick and be on your way->kickRay]]
[[Quietly slip out of Ray's plot->leaveRaysPlot]]
The shambling gardener towers over you menacingly. He's always been a big man, but he seems like a giant to you now.
Without a word, Ray reaches down and pulls you up by your hair.
Fruitlessly, you beat your fists against his chest and his face, but it has no visible effect beyond disheveling his normally handsome moustache.
One of your Wellington boots falls off as your feet lift from the ground, and you are so distracted by the sudden sensation of cold on your feet that you barely even notice as the creature which used to be Ray tears a chunk of flesh from your throat.
[[Play Again!->Start]](set: $bodycount +=1)You're angry, but not furious as you spare one last glance at Ray's body, controlled by a parasite and lurching around the plot, banging into the cabbages and shaking conference pears from the trees.
It's just such a... waste, and you know that Ray would never countenance someone treating his organic produce with such blatant disrespect, whether they were a zombie or not!
You swing your foot at the monster's backside and its balance, already precarious, is completely lost.
You watch helplessly as the creature topples forward onto a metal spike that was planted as part of a pea frame.
The spike plunges through its chest and Ray's lifeless body slowly slides down its length onto the ground.
[[It was an accident!->afterRay]]You're angry, but not furious as you spare one last glance at Ray's body, controlled by a parasite and lurching around the plot, banging into the cabbages and shaking conference pears from the trees.
It's just such a... waste, and you know that Ray would never countenance someone treating his organic produce with such blatant disrespect, whether they were a zombie or not!
You feel nothing but sadness as you think about the ruined crops, and you are starting to feel a bit peckish. You're sure that under these circumstances, Ray wouldn't mind if you nipped quickly into his shed and borrowed a Tunnock's caramel wafer.
Chewing slowly on the snack, you shake your head and leave.
[[Get a move on, biscuit thief->afterRay]] The encounter with Ray has left you shaken, and you would trade your entire pumpkin harvest just to be able to teleport home this instant.
Unfortunately, this isn't an episode of Star Trek, and you are not Captain Kirk.
Ray's Toyota Corolla sits in front of you. An orange triumph of 1970s engineering, with an aftermarket spoiler and go-faster stripes on the side.
The doors are unlocked, but the keys are not in the ignition and you do not want to go back to Ray's plot to look for them.
[[Attempt to steal the car->stealCar]]
[[Continue on foot->doNotStealCar]] (set: $inCar to "true")Living for so long has given you decades in which to watch procedural crime dramas, and police themed soap operas. In fact, you are fairly sure that you once saw this exact model of car being stolen by juvenile hoodlums on an episode of 'The Bill' in 1989.
Recalling the method the thieves used, you yank out a handful of wires from under the dashboard, trying one after another to make a connection between them.
As you are about to abandon the attempt and resolve to write a sternly worded letter to ITV about the lack of realism in their shows, the engine roars into life.
Carefully, so as not to disturb any other zombies, you turn the corner and crawl along the path towards the exit.
[[Drive it like you stole it. Oh... wait.->pamCarEncounter]]It's been a long time since you've driven a car, but muscle memory doesn't forget and you find yourself reliving the halcyon days of your youth as you drive past the vacant plots, your makeshift weapon on the passenger seat.
There is one turn left before the main entrance, and you take it at five miles per hour.
Between you and the gates there are four people standing side by side on the track, blocking your route. Their heads loll vacantly to one side, and you suspect that they have taken over by the parasitic worms!
[[Run them down!->mowDownMob]]
[[Stop the car and get out.->stopTheCar]](set: bodycount +=2)There is no guarantee that you will be able to sneak past, and it would be a poor decision to try and attack four zombies simultaneously while armed only with a small $weapon.
You press your foot down on the accelerator and release the handbrake.
The aged Toyota leaps forward into the the mass of human bodies, tossing two to the side, and grinding one under your wheels. The fourth is tossed into the air and lands upside down, squash between the spoiler and the body of the car.
You are almost out of the site, and only the gate stands between you and the end of this nightmare.
[[Stop the car and open the gates with your key.->sneakToMainGate]]
[[Ram the gates!->ramGates]]You slam your foot down on the brake pedal, bringing the car to an instant stop. Thank goodness you were wearing your seatbelt!
Exiting the car your worst fears are confirmed - The four individuals ARE zombies, and you can see the worm tails protruding from their nostrils. They do not appear to have noticed you and are aimlessly circling one another.
[[Attempt to sneak by the zombie mob->sneakPastMob]]
[[Get back into the car and mow them down!->mowDownMob]]
[[Attack them with your $weapon.->attackMob]]Leaving your weapon in the car, you lower yourself to the ground. Good, the zombies still have not seen you.
Using your elbows and your feet like a Vietcong extra from 'Platoon' you breathe silently as you slip through the long grass with nary a whisper.
The parasite bodies continue to circle each other, unaware of your presence.
[[Sneak to the main gate.->sneakToMainGate]]You knew this was a foolish idea as soon as it occurred to you, but your desire for everlasting glory combined with a lifetime of 'One against Many' movies prevents you from choosing a different resolution. After all, if Patrick Swayze could kick the crap out of a bar full of ne'er-do-wells in 'Road House', surely you can at least hold your own against a small mob of the technically dead.
With a rebel yell, you hold your $weapon in front of you like a bayonet, and charge into battle!
[[YEEEEHAAAAAAAW!->attackMobDeath]]"Yarrrrrrr!" you scream as you plunge into the mob.
However, your battle cry quickly turns into an "Aaaaaarrrrgggggghhhh!" of agony as hands grip onto your arms, your legs and your torso.
Although they seem decrepit, the parasite controlled bodies are immeasurably stronger than yours.
You brace yourself for the inevitable neck bite followed by a swift death, but it seems that the zombies are a caring, sharing sort, and want to divide their next meal evenly between them.
It's just a shame that you are still alive while they are doing it.
[[Ouch->Start]] Your hands are shaking as you reach the main gate to the allotment site, and reach into your trouser pocket for the padlock keys.
The lock makes a 'snick' sound as you turn the key and then creaks open as the monsters look up. You dash through, slam the gate and lock it behind you as the first of the bodies slams against the metalwork and reaches an arm through in a vain attempt to grab hold of your jacket.
They were too slow and you have made it out alive.
There is a payphone 50 yards down the road, and you feel that you should alert someone to the strange goings on.
[[Call the council parks and recreation department->payPhone]]
[[Go straight home for a shortbread finger->walkHome]] You pull a handful of 20 pence pieces from your pocket, lamenting the bygone days when a phone call would only set you back 10p.
Mind you, in those days, a pint of bitter was only a farthing, and a packet of Jammy Dodgers would set you back a thrupenny bit!
You dial the council's long-memorised number and ask to be put through to Vicki in the Parks Department, after a long wait, she answers, and you spill out the entire story to her.
(if: $bodyCount > 0)[
[[Continue...->killerEnding]]]
(else:)[
[[Continue->heroEnding]]]Like a scene from 'Dukes of Hazzard', the gates burst apart as your stolen Toyota Corolla crashes through them, and you breathe easier knowing that you have escaped from both death and a fate worse than death.
There is a payphone halfway up the street, and you feel that you should alert someone to the strange goings on.
[[Call the council parks and recreation department->payPhone]]
[[Go straight home for a pink wafer and a cup of tea...->driveHome]]Sobbing into the handset, you recount the day's events.
You leave out nothing - from your initial encounter at the compost bin, the parasitised bodies you were forced to kill, and your eventual hair-raising escape.
There is silence on the line when you finish.
Hold on for a second, $name. Are you telling me that you actually killed people this morning?
You confirm that you heroically slaughtered zombies, not people, and again recount the circumstances.
I'll send somone out to pick you up right away, $name. You just hold on right there.
You hang up the phone and wait.
[[Wait for a lift...->killerEnding2]]Sobbing into the handset, you recount the days events.
You leave out nothing - from your initial encounter at the compost bin, the parasitised bodies, and your eventual hair-raising escape.
There is silence on the line when you finish.
"Are you honestly telling me that there are mutant worms and, and killer zombies on your allotment site?" Vicki asks.
"What I'm telling you is that there is a clear and present danger to public health, and somebody ought to do something!" you reply.
"Calm down, $name, I'll send an environmental protection team round as soon as I can. You go home and have a nice cup of tea and a scone."
"I'll have a chocolate digestive instead," you say angrily and hang up the phone.
[[Head home for a cup of tea with a chocolate digestive->heroEnding2]]Before long you hear the sirens of police cars and ambulances approaching.
Finally, the authorities are here to deal with the aftermath of the zombie apocalypse which you so narrowly averted.
You are understandably confused as officers cuff your hands and place you into the back of the van.
At the police station, you refuse a lawyer, instead stating over and over again what had happened and how there was no alternative than to take the actions that you did.
You are kept in a holding cell overnight.Dinner arrives shortly before all the officer are called away to deal with an unknown emergency, and some hours later you hear the sound of gunfire from the streets outside.
Eventually, even that stops, and is replaced by a low moaning sound which shakes the very foundations of the police station. I seems that while you were incarcerated, the worms found more converts.
You can only pray for a swift death as you wait in your cell.
[[Start again.->Start]]You walk home without any further unsavoury incidents, and sit down in your favourite chair with a hot cup of tea and a crunchy hob nob.
It has been an interesting day, and you managed to both survive it AND alert the authorities. That's two good deeds! You finish your tea and snooze off.
It is dark outside when you wake up. There are sirens outside, centred around the allotment site.
You flick on the TV, and switch over to BBC news. Apparently there is some kind of public health issue, and the entire area has been sealed off.
Casualties are shown being loaded safely into the back of ambulances, still thrashing, and yellow suited figured are spraying toxins onto the ground of the allotment site and then torching the earth behind them.
You feel a pang of regret that you won't be able to eat the apples from your orchard this year, but at least you survived!
[[Play again...->Start]]Stuufing your weapon down the right leg of your trousers, you lower yourself to the ground. Good, the zombies still have not seen you.
Using your elbows and your feet like a Vietcong extra from 'Platoon' you breathe silently as you slip through the long grass with nary a whisper.
The parasite bodies continue to circle each other, unaware of your presence.
[[Sneak to the main gate.->sneakToMainGate]]It's not your responsibility to notify the authorities. After all, you're the hero of the day. Essentially, you saved the world and survived!
Hurrah for you!
Now it's time to let somebody else clean up the mess.
You feel every inch the hero as you stride home and your longing for a cup of tea and a coconut ring is almost overwhelming.
You have barely sat down in your chair, and are just about to raise the biscuit to your mouth, when you hear sirens outside, centred around the allotment site.
You flick on the TV, and switch over to BBC news. Camera crews show zombies emerging from the gates and attacking camera crews, police officers, and bystanders alike!
Each of the zombies has pockets full of the dreadful worms and are hurling them into houses, at people, and posting them through doors!
Your basic knowledge of exponential maths tells you that the whole of Northern England will be overrun in days - weeks at most.
And it's your fault for not telling anybody.
You put the untouched coconut ring back in the biscuit barrel. Your actions have led to the fall of civilisation, and you're not hungry anymore.
[[Play again...->Start]]It's not your responsibility to notify the authorities. After all, you're the hero of the day. Essentially, you saved the world and survived!
Hurrah for you! Now it's time to let somebody else clean up the mess.
You feel every inch the hero as you drive home in Ray's Toyota, leaving the allotment gates wide open behind you. Your longing for a cup of tea and a coconut ring is almost overwhelming.
You have barely sat down in your chair, and are just about to raise the biscuit to your mouth, when you hear sirens outside, centred around the allotment site.
You flick on the TV, and switch over to BBC news. Camera crews show zombies emerging from the gates and attacking camera crews, police officers, and bystanders alike!
Each of the zombies has pockets full of the dreadful worms and are hurling them into houses, at people, and posting them through doors!
Your basic knowledge of exponential maths tells you that the whole of Northern England will be overrun in days - weeks at most. And it's your fault for damaging the gate!
You put the uneaten coconut ring back in the biscuit barrel. Your actions have led to the fall of civilisation, and you're not hungry anymore.
[[Play again!->Start]]You decide to leave Ray to his own devices, and watch from a distance as he lifts the lid of his compost bin and bends down to scoop up the couch grass.
You watch in horror while Ray fails to notice the worm leaping through the air towards him.
The creature lands on his shoulder, and quickly works its way around his neck, forcing its sinuous body up Ray's nose. Ray collapses to the ground, twitching.
[[Help Ray and find out what happened.->examineRay]]
[[Get away from here!->rayTwitching]]You back away from Ray's twitching body. You know it's already too late for him, but not for you.
Careful to avoid the zombie's attention, you slink towards the gate to his plot.
The worm takes over Ray's carcass faster than you could have believed possible, restoring neural connections to the limbs and bringing an aggressive light back to his eyes.
He lunges at you!"
[[Oh! The horror!->rayFight]]You round the bend, ignoring Ray's ancient vehicle. You've never been a thief and it would be wrong to steal Ray's vehicle, regardless of his current condition.
Strolling past the vacant plots, trusty $weapon in hand, you wonder if you will make it home alive.
There is one turn left before the main entrance, and you cautiously poke your head around.
Between you and the gates, there are four people standing side by side on thetrack, blocking your route. Their heads loll vacantly to one side, and you suspect that they have taken over by the parasitic worms!
Taking a moment to catch your breath and observe the strangers, your worst fears are confirmed.
The four individuals ARE zombies, and you can see the worm tails protruding from their nostrils. They do not appear to have noticed you and are aimlessly circling one another.
[[Attempt to sneak by the zombie mob->sneakPastMob]]
[[Attack them with your $weapon.->attackMob]]With your superior dexterity, you manage to avoid Iain's clumsy strike and reach past his outstretched arm to grip the worm's tail which protrudes from his nose. You pull hard, and with an elastic twang, it comes free.
The head is covered in blood, and the worm starts to choke as it is exposed to the air. After a few seconds it is still, and obviously dead.
Iain's body collapses, and as you watch, begins to breathe normally once more.
You know that he will survive.
[[Well, thank God for that.->afterIain]]