the thing sitcom ep 1

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"Hey, Nauls!" you hear from the door of your dorm. It was one of your buddies who lived on the same floor as you, Windows. Of all the people you could pick to spend time with, he was a pretty good choice. [[What is it?]]

Windows takes this as a welcome to enter the room fully, closing the door behind him. "You can keep a secret right? Just a small one. It's something I was thinking about doing but I got a feeling I might be made fun of but at the same time... it seems neat to do, you know?" Ah, that's right. He was prone to ramble. [[Of course I can, Windows]]

He sighs with relief. "Ok, rad. This has been eating me up for a bit," he says, and takes a seat. "So I was thinking right, my hair is cool," he says, pointing to the frizzy mess on top of his dome, "but I think its time for a change. What do you think about... Pink?" [[Ask him to clarify]] [[No need, this is a great idea]]

You tilt your head. You're not sure if this is a bit or not yet. He did have sort of a... hard to understand sense of humor. He sighs. "Alright, I knew you would think it was a joke, so I brought the kit with me," he says, slinging his powder blue shoulder bag into his lap. From it he produces a series of hair products. "See? I'm being serious. I think it would look neat. Really eye-catching, you know? For the new year." [[This is a great idea]] [[Well,]]

He looks a little taken aback. "Oh I'm going to be honest I thought you would think it was a joke. Well that helps a little but I don't know..." he trails off. "I guess I'll just have to think about it more. Take care alright?" he says, and heads for the door. [[You've got stuff to be doing, anyway]]

He looks relieved that you heard him out. "Well, that is good. That helps a little. I don't think I've said it out loud before, with all this stuff. Thanks, Nauls. You're probably right but I'll just think about it some more," he says and gets up and heads towards the door. "Catch ya later then?" [[You've got stuff to be doing, anyway]]

He sees you hesitate. He's not Fuchs, he's not gonna start to cry but he looks a little disappointed. "Maybe I'll think about it more," he says, putting the supplies back in the bag. "I think it would be cool, but I get it. Once you do it the only way to get rid of it is to like shave your head. But Palmer photoshopped a picture of me into one with pink hair and I've just been thinking about it. I don't agree with the guy like, ever, but I think it would be cool," he finishes. "Anyway, I'll see you later," he says, and heads for the door. [[You've got stuff to be doing, anyway]]

It's later now, as you walk into Dr. Copper's office. It's very unfortunate then, that Dr. Copper can read facial expressions so well as he turns to face you. "What's got you glum?" he asks, patting a seat. "It's nothing," you reply "I sprained my ankle doing... sporting activities and Fuchs insisted I come here. I know it'll be fine but he wouldn't let me go anywhere else." "He insisted you go to the doctors office but didn't walk you here?" It might be best not to respond to that one. Dr. Copper shakes his head. "No matter. Put your foot up on the table. Work to be done." As you comply it occurs to you this might be a good chance to get some advice on the thing that's been forming a pit in your stomach today. Windows... probably shouldn't dye his hair pink. Like you know he shouldn't, objectively, but you'll go for probably now until someone convinces you it isn't funny enough to be worth it. [[Ask the good doc about it]]

"So," you begin. He looks genuinely delighted that you're offering conversation. "Let's say I have this friend..." [["named Windows"]] [["who was going to dye their hair"]]

He looks delighted that you're going to dish some goss. "And Windows is a great guy that you respect. But he also wants to dye his hair bright pink. And you think that it would be very funny to dye it bright pink but you know that the result of this hair dying is going to be a lot of maybe bullying and that kind of thing by the other guys in the frat. So what do you do?" Copper withdraws from ankle inspection. "Well you're going to be fine, clearly. You got here on it, anyway," he says, "And as for Windows... well...." [[Meanwhile]]

He stays focused on the task at hand, but you know he's listening. "And this friend is a great guy that you respect. But he also wants to dye his hair bright pink. And you think that it would be very funny to dye it bright pink but you know that the result of this hair dying is going to be a lot of maybe bullying and that kind of thing by the other guys in the frat. So what do you do?" Copper withdraws from ankle inspection. "Well you're going to be fine, clearly. You got here on it, anyway," he says, "And as for this friend whose name I could not possibly guess... well...." [[Meanwhile]]

Your name is Palmer, and you're sick of these jerks in your frat who think that they need to "build each other up" and not "steal each other's things and money from our bags while we're in the room." Psh. Whatever. It's their first frat, and they're weak, soft marshmallows of people. And you? You're fire, baby, and it's time to get toasting. [[Let's do this]] [[Wah I'm a bleeding heart liberal who doesn't want to be mean to anyone]]

There's the Palmer you know. Because it's you. You're Palmer. I'm sorry to be the one who had to tell you this. Anyway, you're doing your usual loitering around your dad's mechanic shop when you hear the grunt of a man who could really use a little goading right now. "What's up, Childs?" you ask, cool as a cucumber. He stiffens immediately. "How the hell do you walk around so quietly all the time? Anyway it doesn't matter. If I talk about the problem are you going to listen or are you going to walk away halfway through?" But you don't hear that last part, because you walked away halfway through. You don't give a shit, you're Palmer. And Childs was just talking about something b- [[...]]

No you're not. You're Palmer, baby. Your dad own a mechanics shop in Southern California next to USC and you hang around both places constantly because in your 20 years of life you have never found a shit to give. You voted Reagan. You fucking used the first chance you could to vote. You would've lied about your age if you could, that guy could GET it. And you appreciate a man who can GET it. Not. Like that. You're not gay. You're Palmer. [[Let's do this]]

Well, you're still Palmer, unfortunately, but now you're 100% less concious than you were previously. Let's think this through. You were walking away from Childs. You hit the little button on your Walkman that made Devo play. You were about to press the button on the Walkman that skipped Devo so it would play the radio's latest hit, Hungry Like the Wolf (a song which you're pretty sure was just written about you) and then you remember your right foot landing on something that maybe had wheels on the bottom. And like a lever too? A lever that you could press so the bit on the top would raise whatever was resting on it up so you could work on the bottom of... yeah that's not important. Actually it's kinda nice in here. You could stay in this for a while. Except there's some... awful noise leaking in. It's tinny, and it's far away. //See that girl...// //Watch that scene...// //Digging the dancing q-// And then everything is bright and you're looking into the face of Dr. Copper. [[What.]]

And thats the end of this demo for now

Welcome to a CYOA Story. It uses characters from the thing placed into a sitcom-like setting in Southern California. Yes, I know it's weird. You will be playing as Nauls and Palmer. [[Begin->intro]]