CYOA BOOK 2
RELEASE DATE: 03.22.18
A choose your own adventure for adults!
Young, dumb, and full of… You get the picture.
Welcome to Mentis University, your name is Joseph Smith and you’ve been unremarkable all your life. No – really, you’ve been absolutely, unequivocally, insert-smart-word-here mundane since the day the doctor slapped your ass and you let out a sigh. HOWEVER, you did manage to achieve one thing this year – you transferred to a better college. Bravo! (Mentis University has been rated number 2 on Top 10 worst colleges to attend for the last seven years… Guess where you were before this)
Since no one else from your hometown of – insert rural American town here – managed to claw their way out of mediocrity, you decided there was no point in hiding anymore. And thus, at an energetic twenty-one years old, you’re now an openly gay man. Congratulations.
Of course, there’s not much point in being openly gay if there are no gays to be in your opening. So, after spending a few days getting accustomed to your new life, you flopped onto your single bed, closed your eyes, and prayed to the lord… (And you’re still waiting for the day Cher tweets you back)
“Please,” you begged. “Guide me to a man who will treat me right… or pound me like a piece of veal.”
Luckily for you, someone was listening…
You will assume the role of Joe Smith (first-person, present tense) and guide him through his final year of college. Don’t worry, you won’t be expected to do anything as absurd as learn mathematics, but you will, on occasion, be provided with choices that will impact the outcome of the story.
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Before I know it, I’m weaving my way through a swarm of cosplayers, getting handed leaflets for pop-up stores and being bombarded with free samples of anime-inspired cakes. Having so many people crammed into a single room makes the air humid, palpable. The scent of sizzling hotdogs infuses with the buttery popcorn and crepe stands. The body odor oozing from the heavily costumed teens causes me to recoil whenever we cut through a large group, and my shoes stick to the floor every other step like we’re treading through the filthiest of nightclubs.
Man, this place is packed wall-to-wall with sweaty basement dwellers (much like the person writing this book) and hot nerds alike. There’s queues at every booth and tables with D-list voice actors outlining the various manga and comic book stalls. There’s even a makeshift arcade setup with cabinets ranging from 80’s classics to modern VR titles.
So much to do, so much to see, and yet the one thing that draws in my gaze is the beaming grin on Kai’s face. He looks elated to be here, and I think a part of that has to do with me being here with him…At least, I hope so.
“How many of these have you been to?”I ask, loudly, trying to speak over the cheers and laughter that fill the room.
“This is my fifth!”he calls back, pulling me along by my wrist as he leads me to the comic stalls. “What do you think?”
“I think it’s…lively,” I reply, getting a whiff of unwashed armpit as I squeeze myself between two burly men.
Gag. People should only be allowed to smell like that mid-orgy.
We continue trudging our way through the crowd when suddenly, we’re swallowed by the shadows of the bookstacks and the thousands of comics they hold. Kai releases me mid-aisle and dashes toward a specific pile of pricy-looking omnibuses, and I linger behind him, appreciating his bulbous buns and thinking of all the things I’d like to do to him.
“Have you read Crisis on infinite earths?”he asks, flicking through the pages of said book.
“What about The killing joke? Or Secret wars? Or Infinite crisis? Did you read the Alias comics before Jessica Jones went to Netflix? Oh –oh, have you read the original Civil War? They changed so much, but I get it. I don’t think they’d ever be able to do a proper adaptation even if they had all the rights to their characters back.”
Born January 6th 1993, T. C. resides in the United Kingdom, living with his partner Peter Jones and their dog, Drake.
T. C. has had a passion for supernatural stories from a young age, often scribbling down his latest ideas instead of focusing on whatever task was at hand during the long school days. At the age of twelve, he penned his first romance story featuring himself and the boy he had feelings for set in a fantastical land full of werewolves and wizards. Ever since that day, T. C. has made it his mission to entwine his leading gay protagonists with epic paranormal adventures.
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