The Choose Your Own Adventure genre has been updated with swearing, drug use, and hilarious adult situations! Over 150 pages and 20 possible endings!
Welcome to the Dungeon of Dung-Gar, the most wretched spot in the entire kingdom. You struggle alone in a pitch black underground labyrinth that smells of nasty farts and contains a deadly threat around every corner. Bloodthirsty goblins, flesh melting acid slime, a penis-collecting orc, and insectoid poop scavengers are all ready to haunt your dreams. Do you have what it takes to defeat the dark wizard Dung-Gar and escape his dungeon of horrors? Probably not, but you can always go back and try a different path!
“Fuck you, you hairy-knuckled douchebag!” the tiny drunken pixie shrieks as hard as his thimble-sized lungs can manage.
The little bugger may be no bigger than a pencil, yet he just finished off his third pint of ale. You bring your clenched fist down with a thunderclap on the hardwood bar, trying to squash the impolite little jerk, but the pixie darts away. He waggles his hairless butt cheeks in your direction before jumping on a sizable cockroach he’s been riding around like a steed all evening.
“See you in hell you motherfucker!” he screams in a voice that sounds like it’s sucked down more helium than beer. “Ya roach! Ya!”
The cockroach scuttles down the length of the bar as fast as its six legs can move, the pixie flipping you the bird the entire way.
You get up to flatten the little asshole when Big Lou, the barkeep, puts his meaty hand on your shoulder and forces you back down onto your stool.
“There will be no killing of my customers tonight, Beo,” he says sternly.
“Come on Lou! That guy was being a jerk to me all night! He’s in here shooting his mouth off talking about how the Pixie Nation will rise again! He’s a friggin’ redneck racist and a fairy to boot!” you shoot back. “There outta be a height restriction to get served in here, Lou. Like five feet or something!”
“Watch it… Huuuu - man!” an extremely inebriated dwarf gurgles a few stools down
The dwarf attempts to stand and confront you, but immediately falls to the dirt floor of the tavern. A wet sounding snore comes from where you imagine the downed dwarf’s mouth would be. His beard is so unkempt, it’s hard to tell.
“Get him out of here JoJo!” Big Lou yells to his burly bouncer.
The over six foot tall muscle-bound JoJo easily picks up the blacked-out dwarf by his belt and tosses him out into the street.
“See Lou, these little folk just can’t hold their liquor!” you smile, thinking within your alcohol soaked brain that you’ve won the argument.
“Listen Beo, I serve whoever pays me in hard currency. Understand?” Big Lou says jamming one of his big sausage fingers into your chest. “Now I’ve counted thirteen flagons of my finest ale served to you tonight.”
“I wouldn’t call it the ‘finest ale’ but yeah, and I said put them on my tab, Lou,” you reply. “I’m a mercenary, dude! I’m rolling in the gold!”
That’s a lie. You were rolling in gold after a successful campaign fighting mountain giants for King Fleecewell, but that was almost eight months ago. You’ve drank away most of the money you earned/pillaged these past months in pubs and roadhouses throughout the kingdom.
Now penniless, you’ve been reduced to the existence of an alcoholic nomad, conning patrons for drinks or skipping out on the bill.
“Aye. They’re on your tab, Beo, and if you add up the five shots of vanilla vodka and the three appletinis you warmed up with, your tab is getting quite hefty.”
“Wow! Are you sure I drank that much? I don’t remember drinking that much.”
“My math is correct there, lad,” Big Lou continues unfazed. “I think it’s high time I see a little gold in my hand before I allow you the privilege to drink in my establishment any longer.”
JoJo gives you a “I’m going to kick your ass” sneer from his position by the tavern door. You can tell Big Lou’s lackey enjoys his work of busting teeth a little too much. Your flagon is empty. You need to make a decision.
1) Do you want to stay and argue with Big Lou until he serves you another beer? Continue on to page 63.
2) Maybe a better strategy is find an excuse to stay in the bar without drawing any more ire from Big Lou. Then maybe you can grift a couple more cocktails out of some suckers or hit on some ladies. If that is your choice, turn to page 57.
3) Or you can retain some of your dignity and leave the establishment like a gentleman. Turn to page 35.