Taking Acid With Strangers
An Interactive Choose Your Own Adventure Parody Novella
Note to readers: This is Page One of a fully interactive choose your own adventure parody book. There will be links at the bottom of each page that will provide choices for you to make. The book in its entirety is self-contained on Substack, and the links will not take you to any exterior site.
There are many endings.
The rest of the pages are located in a separate, hidden Substack, so as not to clog up my main page's feed. If you wish to Subscribe, please ensure you do so at my main page - Being The Author.
-B
It’s dark outside, you’re sticky, sweaty, and your ass hurts a little. The A/C in your fifteen year-old Ford Ranger broke two months ago, and the drive out to the rural bayou has been anything but smooth. The humid June air wafts in like a hot fishy breath while the tires that are almost as old as the truck itself skip across uneven mud puddles like water skis.
You can hear the bass from the distant EDM music growing nearer, and you check your phone for the last message from a girl you matched with on Tinder an hour and a half ago:
“I’m at an outdoor rave out near the bayou! You should come! Here’s the pin drop. 29.826596, -89.632921”
And then you reread your response: “Omw!”
Your prick of a boss at Walmart scheduled you to open tomorrow morning, you have no signal, and your GPS stopped working miles ago. Yet none of these facts outweigh you having not been laid in over five months. And it even though its not a sure thing, you made the decision to try your luck with the hot hippy girl long before the air started smelling like dead fish.
Coming around a bend you spot a bonfire as tall and wide as a small house, and the EDM music starts to drown out the rumble of your truck’s engine. “Well at least I know she wasn’t lying and probably isn’t a serial killer,” you say to yourself as you park along the shoulder of the muddy road behind a long line of other cars that had the same idea.
The young moon hangs upside down in the middle of the sky and you step out to see a couple playing tongue hockey against a car further up the way. Your phone is almost dead and aside from the moon the only visible light comes from the flickering bonfire casting shadows a hundred or so yards away.
The pre-coitus couple doesn’t bother taking a breather as you pass by them. She even moans a little louder as you do. You mostly ignore them, hoping she isn’t hot hippy chick from Tinder. As you slog towards the commotion and billowing techno music, you realize you don’t actually know her name and should probably to make a point to do that the moment you find her.
Before reaching the party, you pass by broken chunk of particle board leaning against an old tree stump with a spray-painted image of a white rabbit on it. It catches your attention and so you don’t notice the guy with red sunglasses before bumping into him with clumsy oof.
“Oh, hey. Sorry about that bro,” he says, drawing his words out a little longer than necessary. It’s almost unnatural, but the corners of his smile nearly stretch to both of his earlobes. “You here for the party maaan?”
“Just out for an evening stroll,” you say while watching his pupils fluctuate behind his red lenses.
“Ahahahah,” he cackles like a hyena, and then points at you, “You’re a funny guy maaan.”
The tongue hockey girl you passed earlier brushes up beside you. “Hey, you tryin’ to party?” she says as you make the realization that she is in fact hot hippy girl from Tinder. Her fiery red hair shines in the ambient light, and her green eyes cut right through you.
You glance back and see no sign of the guy she was just making out with. “Oh, hey,” you say, playing it off casually and acting like your pants didn’t just suddenly get a little tighter.
Sunglasses dude cackles again, “You wanna get zooted, my guy?” He reaches out a palm holding two tiny, plasticky-looking blue squares.
You been to enough parties to identify it. And while you’ve tried mushrooms a couple of times, you’ve never done LSD.
“C’mon,” says hot hippy girl as she takes you by the hand and then whispers in your ear, “It’ll be fun.”
The firelight reflects in the dude’s sunglasses, dancing like tiny pixies as he extends his hand out a little closer towards you.
Your choices are:
or
♥️