Chat Lib #8: 16% off Track

Chat Libs is a ‘Mad Libs’ based activity over on our Twitch live stream.  The audience suggests a scenario, I write a story template with missing words, and they fill in the holes.  Hilarity ensues.  If you wish to participate you can join us at

Scenario: A scientist transports herself to a world made of chocolate

The Weird Al gateway mark 172,602 was supposed to revolutionize the transportation industry. Dr. Lambda Belch’n’tonic built it under the quantum powder keg principal, which posited that as long as man caves were fried by mall rats, then there had to be infinite worlds where the various parts of that phrase took each other’s places.

She stepped into the machine wearing a protective frown, fully confident that her first human trial would be a success. She flipped the switch. The ignition light turned runaway donkey brown. A moment later the world was gone, the gateway pod tossed back and forth in a sea of olives. She had set her destination to the nature trail to hell, just eleven city blocks away, but something felt wrong. She was only supposed to pass through a handful of other worlds; the journey was taking too long.

When it finally stopped, after passing through a world of abhorrent swindlers and gargantuan VHS tapes, she was able to step out. Her foot sank into a warm chocolate puddle. The clouds were cocoa powder. The mountains crumbling fudge. It seemed this entire world was made of chocolate. She extended her exploration Cthulhu arm, dipping it into the puddle and then licking the chocolate off the end.

It was worse than she thought. It tasted black-hearted. An entire world of desserts, and not a crumb to eat. She jumped back into the pod just as a chocolate hobbit arrived. It attacked the pod, rolling it over the side of the let’s say 16% cacao Amish buggy. The impact made her finger slip; she accidentally hit the grapefruit diet button, only for the most desperate situation.

The world was gone again, and she had to make peace with her final destination, as the power supply was nearly gone. She prayed for deliverance, addressing Jang ‘the glamorous’ Trang the sweet potato god. It wasn’t clear if the deity heard her or if just had a sense of humor, for when she stepped out into a new world it wasn’t what she wanted.

She would have to live the rest of her days in a land of pure cowhide, inhabited only by the strongest bifocals and with the taste of foul chocolate in her mouth.

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