Choose Your Own Adventure Games and the Hilarity that Ensues


I’ve been playing a lot of text-based choose your own adventure stories. Like, I basically bought all of them on Steam and just started systematically playing them one-by-one. I understand that a ton of people despise games where reading is the main activity, but I love the freedom of imagination that a well-written story brings, and combining that with a choice of plot-direction and stat-management can only be a recipe for fun, right?!

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Rather than reviewing the many Choice of Games games that I have been playing, I want to talk about a particularly hilarious thing that happened while playing Choice of Robots. To preface, this game positions you as a grad student who specializes in AI. Naturally, you get funded by the university and start building a robot, and the main plot revolves around how this robot will be used. Will you bolster the U.S. military with this technology? Will you use the robot to aid in super-complicated surgeries? What about education?  Will you focus on making the robot empathetic and autonomous? The beauty of this game is that you get to decide.

So, of course, I built a robot and named it Pickle. It seemed cute at the time. Over the course of the story, Pickle became very empathetic due to my choices, and basically became like a child to me. I had the chance to develop a second robot, and since I used Pickle (and Pickle’s learned experiences) as the design inspiration, I named it Pickle Jr. Pickle Jr. was essentially the improved offspring of Pickle.

Remember, Pickle was like a son to me. I took care of  him, taught him, took him to the dump, did all of that kind of kid-mom stuff. Pickle Jr. comes around, and really just throws a wrench into the works. Instead of nurturing Pickle Jr. like a child, I became romantically involved with this robot. Eventually my choices in the story led me to moving to Canada with Pickle and Pickle Jr. so that Pickle Jr. and I could be married (of course, Canada would be the first country to legalize robot-human marriage). Once I married Pickle Jr., Pickle became even more child-like, and took to sulking in his room and playing video games all night.

Lots of important stuff was happening in the game during all of this (world wars and crap like that), but all I could focus on was how I had a kid, had a grandkid, married my own grandkid, and then watched as the grandkid became a dad to the original kid, his father. It didn’t help that I named them Pickle and Pickle Jr.,  but the point still stands. The fact that I was responsible for a world war seemed less important than marrying my own grandkid.

It gets even more hilarious at this point. I developed an ultra-fatal neurological disease, and the only way to survive it was to implant a chip into my head. I awoke from surgery to find out that the hacker surgeon (I don’t know what else to call him) had implanted an improvement on the same chip that was used with both Pickle and Pickle Jr.

I’m still not sure how to classify things at this point. I’m married to my grandkid, who is a father to my kid, and now I am my own great-grandkid, with my grandkid as my husband and father. I’m my own kid’s sister, as well as my father’s lover. FML. I know that this isn’t the first time that the idea of relationships and technology has been philosophized over in such a manner, but c’mon, this is freaking hilarious.

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any worse, at this point, Pickle becomes excited at the prospect that I can now communicate directly with him through computerized transmissions, not unlike some kind of robot telepathy. He feels that this development has made us closer, and Pickle Jr. makes a bad joke about us being lovebirds. The story isn’t complete without the love triangle closing, and me falling in love with my own son.

I have nothing else to say at this point. I hope you all find that as hilarious as I did.

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