The First Chronicle of Nilworld
Welcome to this first Chronicle of Nilworld! Nilworld is a large planet
covered by over 95% swamp. The planet itself is often referred to as the Bog,
but to the citizens it is referred to quite plainly as ‘here.’
The only plane to Nilworld leaves at exactly 3:04 a.m. You board the
plane and make a very uneventful journey to the Only Airport. Upon exiting the
plane, you are quickly surrounded by obnoxious salesmen who try to sell you
useless items like the Vacuum Furnace Deluxe, which is shaped like a large
vacuum-cleaner attached to a set of bagpipes, and which carries a warning label
that reads: ‘Caution--The heat generated by this appliance will cause all objects
in its vicinity to burst into flames. May cause burns, injury, and possibly a quite
fiery, painful death. Do not use when covered in flammable liquids. Do not use
near organic materials. Do Not Use Indoors!!!’
After threatening to pull the safety pin on the Furnace DX you manage to
make your way to a waiting taxi.
For some odd, unexplainable reason the cab’s doors are welded shut, so
you nonchalantly climb in through and open window. You point the way to your
new home and the driver, who seems to understand no human language other
than vulgar signing, speeds off into traffic. You scream as the ragged little man
does things with his taxi that you wouldn’t have believed if you hadn’t seen the
terrified looks on various other drivers’ and one or two former pedestrians’
faces.
You roll up the window to shield yourself from the light rain which has just
begun. Soon after, you arrive at you new home. Much to your dismay, the
window won’t roll down. You look around frantically for a way out when you
notice the sun roof. It opens easily and you crawl out of the cab, which takes
more talent then you would expect when you realize that the rain would destroy
the upholstery. After nearly twenty minutes of fierce scrabbling you manage to
hoist yourself out of the cab and also manage to fall off of the roof. After
regaining consciousness, you sit up to discover that you owe the cabby nearly a
billion dollars of his ruined seats. You refuse to pay and the driver grunts and
floors the gas pedal, squealing off into the street and spraying you with
mud.
You try to wipe the mud off of your face as you walk up to the front door.
Succeeding at least partially (your best luck of the day) with your cleaning
efforts, you grasp the door handle and realize that the door is locked.
You look around for another way in and notice an open window.
Yay!!
The only problem is that it is on the third floor.
Oh well, you tell yourself as you try to scale the vinyl siding. You reach
the window, climb in, and fall three stories to the ground floor. Apparently, there
were no second and third floors inside the house.
Once inside the house you look around. You see a bed, or more
specifically, a box-spring with some sort of metal support under it, a toilet that is
right in the middle of the kitchen, which is incidentally also where the bed is
found. There is a huge radio, a chair that doesn’t look like it would support its
own weight if it were forced to, and a stove with some cupboards above it. In
one of the cupboards is a deck of cards.
You have nothing to do so you open the pack of cards and begin
shuffling. It is then that you receive the largest paper cut you have ever seen, or
hope to see again. The blood seems to have no end, so you grab the nearest
thing at hand to stop the flow--a card. You then race about the kitchen to try and
find a first-aid kit. You find it in the stove and you open it up. It has some gauze
and some of that “vanilla”-looking stuff your parents would put on a cut if they
wanted you to suffer. Oh, and it contains large amounts of lemon juice, which
the gauze had been soaking in. You resign to the fact that it will hurt and you
pull the card off of you hand. It is the Ace of Spades.
You then quickly bandage up your hand and sit down to finish your card
game.
The radio clicks on. “Due to some people complaining that not everyone
can win in a game all the time, a new rule has just recently been put into effect to
discourage people from playing games at all. Everyone who plays a game is a
loser. This includes you. Especially people who play games by
themselves. There is no excuse for you. You are stupid and ugly.”
You pack up your game of solitaire and try to turn off the radio.
Unfortunately, it doesn’t seem to have an on/off button or switch. In fact, the
volume dial only succeeds in turning up the volume, no matter which way you
turn it.
“I hate you all, you stinking piles of manure!”
You consider smashing it when you realize that all the house’s power
seems to come from the radio.
“Thank you and have a wonderful day!”
It seems to be about nighttime now, but you can’t tell because the only
windows are on the third floor, and they have awnings over them. You’re tired
so you go to bed anyway.
You wake up the next morning wearing only your underwear, which was a
bit of a shock since you went to bed fully dressed. You look around but can’t
find your clothes.
You find a sheet and put it on as you head out the door to go to work.
Outside, it seems that everyone is in various states of undress. You seem to be
the only one with a sheet to spare.
You can’t find a cab so you walk the six miles into town. Your new job is
that of a window-waxer; a job so prestigious that the previous waxer committed
suicide and was never found. You make you way to the third floor and sit down
at the desk, which promptly collapses.
Your day could be described as pure boredom, but it goes beyond that.
There is absolutely nothing to do. At all. There is no furniture to dust, no
windows to wax. Nothing. And the room heats up to unimaginable temperatures
in the daytime. It got so hot that you had to move to the basement to keep your
blood from boiling. It cooled down slightly and you moved back up to the third
floor. It was then that you noticed the hole in the wall behind the desk. You
peer in and see a foot. It must have belonged to the last waxer. He was trying
to make a window. That explains the smell.
The radio turns on in the office.
“Now it’s time for the “Follow The Directions Or Be Docked Pay” Game!!!
When I say go, I want you to rush into you basement and then back up to the
roof. You will have thirty seconds. Go!”
You rush down the steps, into the basement. Then you spin around and
fly back up the stairs. Then you slip on some water from a leaky pipe and crash
into a wall. Two more flights to go and less than 5 seconds.
“Oh, we’re sorry little people, but the Window Waxer didn’t make it!
That’s two weeks pay for everybody. You all suck!!!! Ha ha! Oh, by the way, it
gets lonely up here in the radio booth, so if one of you losers could bring me
some chocolate donuts I won’t say how much I despise you. Thanks!”
You walk home and wonder when it will all end.
To be continued......