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Welcome to the world's first "Gamified Story" that blends a choose-your-own adventure tale with an escape room and hidden chat rooms.


Enjoyable to play individually as an escape room, or play with friends as a fun party or event!  

Run time: as long as you want, but usually 30 minutes to an hour

Rules: Be nice. Stay audio-only.

Get stuck? Hints are located at the bottom of the page.  

Answers to riddles are located in chat room hyperlinks. 

There is a total of 11 core pages with 4 different alternate pathways through the story. 

It was the hazy time between lunch and dinner with still enough of the day that a person could accomplish great feats, but also right around the time when one's brain begins to interject: there's no harm in pushing things off until tomorrow. 


Alex’s brain had already decided it had accomplished more than enough by lunch. While her brain was curled up in hibernation, her eyes were occupied by her Holodeck where she watched highly important videos of odd animal friendships. Alex’s stomach contemplated the merits of a Snack. 


“Might I suggest a sandwich? Every great adventure starts well with a sandwich. Perhaps a pot of tea too.” 


“Why yes, I could fancy a sandwich,” she mused to herself and stopped, for she realized she had this conversation with more than just herself. 


She detached her Holodeck to find Tip Nick leaned against her dresser drawers. Tip Nick was a Traoxian, an alien that came from somewhere to the left and a nudge back to the right of Alpha Centauri. He looked perhaps what humanity would have had it dawdled a million more years in the water. "You humans came out too early, you’re barely formed!", Tip Nick had said on numerous occasions. They often disagreed on whether their respective evolutionary lines were late or early. 


It was now ten years after the Great Convergence, when two-dozen different universes had gotten mashed together like intergalactic takeout on a multi-dimensional subway ride.


In the first few years after the Convergence humanity was in disarray. No religion had a prophecy concerning these events, and religious leaders were rather put out that they could gain no credit. Capitalists were up in arms, as these aliens did not seem to want new tennis rackets or handbags or diplomas or paperclips. 


In the years following, all of the religious leaders had the chance to reread their texts in a way that foretold these aliens and were very happy. The Capitalists, although they were rather sad that the aliens did not want to buy any of their nice things, they found the average American still did, and were content. 


As far as the aliens were concerned with Earth, a thorough inspection revealed humans shoved most of their happiness into a specific time called Happy Hour, and Earth was quickly stamped as a barbaric, backwater place. So Earth remained largely intact and left alone. The great question of whether we were alone in the universe was answered, and the result was several dozen new alien-inspired fast-casual restaurants and several hundred new alien-inspired tabs on less than family-friendly websites. 


“Deviled eggs might be the worst adventurer’s snack. Not very portable, then you’re left with the smell…” Tip Nick absentmindedly mused to himself as he packed a bowl. 


“You can’t just come into a person’s room! There are things called manners. And privacy.”


She had on numerous occasions explained the concept of doors, and rooms, and manners, but to an alien species that could bend space and time and she strongly suspected was telepathic, the concept was taking some time to click. 


“That reminds me! We have somewhere to be, and quickly. Right after 4:30 in your world people become fixated on the clock. Makes it entirely impossible to get anywhere unordinary when people are so aware of where they don’t want to be.”


“I have yet to agree to anything!” But socks had arrived on her feet and sandwiches had plopped themselves into her coat pockets. It was hard to fight against the possibility of grand adventures when she cared little about her work, and was hardly working anyways. 


Tip Nick rustled about in a bag she swore had not been there a second before. 


“Hmm, yes, yes, I remember the when I set them aside, but the where is quite another question entirely.”


While he rummaged in his bag she wondered if there was still time yet to put on a kettle for tea…


“Here we are!” Tip Nick drew out two popsicles, one red and one blue. “Which flavor do you want?”


“What are they?”


“Why, Low Probability Popsicles of course. We have to lower our Probability threshold to stick around the bar for any interesting amount of time. Now, cherry or blueberry?”


She did not quite understand what he spoke about, but she did fancy a snack. 


The cherry popsicle was good, with undercurrents of strawberry, or maybe it was raspberry. 


She had the sensation that Tip Nick spoke, but she became aware of a pink light just to her right that flashed off and on again. 


The pink light seemed to come from a neon bar sign that hung atop two doors, stationed right below her nightstand.  


What a silly place for a bar to be located! she thought. I can’t imagine they get many customers there. She seemed to have forgotten that it was odd for a bar to be located there at all or that it had not been there a minute before. 


She turned to Tip Nick, who she swore was across the room, but now stood right beside her. The doors to the bar had also been off to her side and much too small, but when she looked again, there they were in front of her and just the right size. 


There seemed nothing left to do but make their way inside. 

improbability bar door.png
door 1.png
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Part 0 of 11
Choose a door to start your journey!
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