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Cult Leaders Are So Chatty

Of course! There's no handier disarmer than the Pseudo-Wind Godfist! You knock the ax from its handle and send it flying. The little one lurches and strikes Frew with the handle. Everyone watches the ax spin through the air in a lazy, elliptical arc - everyone except Frew, who hops around on one foot, saying: "Owee, owee, owee...."

The ax head lands, its sharp edge burying itself in the seat of Ian's Vespa with a "thok!" Perhaps it's all the green fluid they've been drinking, but suddenly the crowd stops and stares at it, gathering around the hacked scooter.

"Dude," Ian says. "My ride."

"It's the sign," Leader says. "We can go now."

You take advantage of the lull to spit the darling little sweater out of your mouth. The sudden rush of air makes you pass out. You have a dream. A woman appears and says, "Dr. Neck's plan is part of The Plan, and you are part of Dr. Neck's plan. Your biomechanical gifts are the tools of your destiny. You are locked into a parallel universe. To get back to your normal physical state, you must get back to the normal universe. Find the Ultimate Clipboard so that you may Cut and Paste back into reality (go Stanford)!"

You awaken with a start and discover that you're on a stretcher. Frew and Ian talk as they carry you. Frew says, "But if you Select All and Cut and Paste everything, what's left on the original document? That freaks me out." To which Ian replies, "Yeah. And it makes 'Clipboard' sound kind of stupid, doesn't it?"

Suddenly, everyone stops. A hushed murmur spreads through the group. You hoist yourself up on one elbow and look at the figure that everyone is staring at. It's the woman from the dream. They all say, "June."

In a reverent daze, Frew leans over and says to you, "They're not booing; they're saying her name."

You suddenly feel a soothing warmth flow through you and, to your astonishment, you begin to rise up from the stretcher and float toward the woman at the center of the crowd. She is bathed in a gentle light that draws you closer. She laughs a laugh that rockets through the woods and is clearly heard by every single person in the world.

"Welcome," she says, and with that one word your heart begins to sing a complex cantata of pure love and delight. And, like, ebullience. She beckons you to come nearer.

"You have had a long and unusual journey," she tells you. "One fraught with aimlessness and a noticeable lack of continuity. With the incredible power of your mousehand, you have accumulated an immense amount of knowledge. You have seen visions and ideas and thoughts and memories, the cumulative socio-cultural information of the entire world. You have gained a shockingly dense, holistic understanding of the vast interconnectedness of humankind and are able to move from one component to the next with frightening speed."

You pantomime a ceaselessly chattering mouth with your normal hand. You keep expecting her to make some lame comparison between your abilities and the World Wide Web, but, thankfully, it never comes.

"... unprecedented in the annals of history," she continues. "You have access to every thought in every person's head. You already comprehend the power that this gives you, but it is equally important to comprehend the responsibility that goes along with it. You may believe that this gift was a freak accident due to a negligent microwave manufacturer, but it really goes much deeper - and higher - than that. You cannot continue through life being merely a vessel, waiting to be filled. You must use this knowledge to expand the very parameters of what life is. You must act, decisively and assuredly, but also wisely. Absolute power ..."

Your ears perk up at "Absolut."

"... corrupts absolutely, as you know. It is so easy for you to use this power for evil instead of good. You will be presented with many temptations along the way, and you must learn to make the correct decision or we'll all be lost forever. It's an enormous burden you must bear, but ultimately you will be enlightened and uplifted by what you once considered to be an onus."

First "annals," now "onus." What's her deal?

"Now I must present you with a choice, a decision you must make that will affect all that precedes and follows it, upon which the fate of all beings rests. Are you ready?"

You nod, a feeling of overwhelming tension threatens to shatter the very fabric of your soul.

"OK," June says. "Here is what I ask of you, and listen very carefully to my words. Do you ..." She pauses and looks around for a moment, then says, "You know what? I'm starving. You wanna grab some grub first?"

You nod again, solemnly.

"Great. We've got a couple of good places nearby."

Do you: