Talk:Succubus/@comment-25204624-20150315053039/@comment-25035274-20150316144637

Being the 1980's-era television hero that I am, I take the pouch, spoon, torch, and rope and manage to somehow build a working Thompson submachine gun. With my newly crafted weapon in hand, I step out of the door and onto the path to freedom.

Unfortunately, the path to freedom is filled with monsters. They come at me one after the other, charging like stampeding cattle, forcing me to use every trick in the book to survive. Eventually, though, they all fall before my mighty gun-hand and I manage to single-handedly save the town.

Heh. Yeah. That's a nice thought. Of course, then I remember that I'm not actually a 1980's-era television hero. Hell, I'm not even an online wanna-be hero. I'm just some guy holding a bunch of junk.

I mean, really. A spoon? What the hell am I gonna do with a spoon?

Screw it. I tie the pouch to the unlit torch wth the rope, making a make-shift enchanted Flail of Napping, which is a bit more in keeping with my abilities. Which primarily consist of tying things together. Brandishing my new flail and spoon in suitably dangerous manner, I again step out the door - for REAL this time! - and prepare for mortal combat.

Approximately 30 seconds later, I manage to render myself unconscious as I slip and accidentally smack myself in the face with the sleeping powder-on-a-stick. When I awaken, I am being thoroughly raped by a green-haired girl with wings.