Pickles in a bar, betting on the invasion of the Human's pathetic planet. Copyright Redwood Games. Used by permission.

NOTE TO READERS: If you are coming straight to my blog from Twitter, you will want to start this twisted sci-fi tale from the beginning. It all starts with Barry Northern’s Blog. He came up with the idea to have a Create Your Own Adventure story. Segments of the story are written by several bloggers and you can trace the adventure through numerous threads.

My thread goes from Barry Northern – Jodi MacArthur – Tony Noland –  Mariana Blaser – Anne Tyler Lord – either Estrella Azul or GPChing

The story is about a 14 year old boy, Michael, and his friend, Latoya. They have encountered aliens invading the Earth. This story takes many twists and turns and you get to choose which direction at the end of each post. Start at the beginning here, or trace backwards through the previous person I follow.  I am after Mariana Blaser.

So, if you are reading through the threads, you just arrived from Mariana Blaser and you chose option # 1. Go find Mr. Brown’s friend.

Have fun and go back to follow more threads!

All three of them stood frozen as the alien police officer entered the music store. Mr. Brown stammered, “Ah…what can I do for you…sir.”

“I’m closing this store down for building code violations, you will all have to leave.” The alien waved his billystick at them and they quickly shuffled out the door, pushing each other out onto the sidewalk. The police officer locked the door behind them and pulled down the shades.

Michael and Latoya huddled close together so Mr. Brown couldn’t hear, “I don’t think we can trust this guy, something doesn’t make sense here,” Michael whispered.

“The Mendigan police officer didn’t acknowledge him, so he must be telling us the truth. He is the only person we can trust right now. If his friend has the music we need, maybe we can find out what these aliens are going to do next.” Latoya insisted.

“Okay, take us to your friend’s house so we can find out more…hey, mister…” Michael snaps his fingers and Mr. Brown shakes his head.

“Ah…all right, let’s go.” Mr. Brown takes off walking briskly down the sidewalk glancing nervously at all the other aliens strolling down the street.

Latoya and Michael grabbed each other’s hands and tried to look as calm as possible to not attract attention.

Mr. Brown disappeared down an alley and they ran to keep up with him. He went inside a warehouse that was converted into an apartment. “Slim, you in here?” He busted through his front door, seeming to know it was open.

A tall thin man, over six feet five inches emerged from the back, walking slowly. He had a towel wrapped in a turban on his head. “Just got out of the shower, what are you doin’ here?”

“We need to listen to your Taylor Swift albums.” Mr. Brown said quickly.

“Sure, I got ‘em all.” Slim’s mouth turned into a creepy smirk.

Mr. Brown didn’t move. Something came over him and he grabbed his ears, screaming in pain. Slim ran towards him and his towel fell off. He had tentacles behind his ears.

Michael started hearing the voices in his head again, louder than before. Pickledeath. Pickledeath. Pickledeath. He shook his head to make it stop and saw that Latoya had a glazed look on her face. He grabbed her and they both ran out the door down the alley.

“Let’s get off the street so we can talk.” Michael pulled her through the door of the nearest restaurant.

Strangely, there were no staff or customers in the restaurant. They were relieved to have the place to themselves, but the eerie feeling was returning. They were out of breath and ran to a booth. As soon as they sat down, they could hear strange sounds that were not quite human or animal.

“Oh, no, I hear something in back.” Latoya got up and slowly cracked open the door just enough to see through. Michael was behind her craning his neck. They could see strange green glob Pickle creatures sitting with several of the Mendigans at a private bar. They were laughing and drinking together. They couldn’t understand what the Pickle globs were saying, but the Mendigan’s were speaking English with strange guttural sounds mixed in.

“Ha, ha, ha…we drink…glabbanogook…to the Pickle Wars! Tomorrow …labwanoslat…you will lead the attack on the humans and we will be your warriors to rule the Earth.” A Mendigan raised a glass of red fluorescent liquid and drank it in one slurp.

The Mendigan put his arm down on the bar and accidentally flipped the remains of his sandwich. A tomato and a piece of lettuce hit one of the Pickle people and he screeched in horror.

“You idiot!” The tomato and lettuce seared the Pickle and he shriveled up and died. The Mendigan turned back into a human, was roughed up by the other Mendigans and was thrown out the back door into the alley.

Michael slowly closed the door. “Did you see those Pickle creatures?”

“Yeah, and the Mendigans seem to be servants of the Pickle people.” Latoya didn’t know whether to be afraid, or laugh.

“That explains the Pickledeath warning I keep hearing in my head. They are going to attack the humans tomorrow and turn them into a warrior force of Mendigans. If we can destroy the Pickle people, then maybe the Mendigans will all turn back into humans.“

Michael began strategizing. “Let’s go to the big warehouse store and select our weapons.”


“Here, this will work,” Latoya proudly holds up a set of kitchen knives.

“Maybe, but I’ve got something even better.” Michael smiles and nods his head. He is holding an industrial sized salad shooter.

What will they do next?

1. Buy up all the vegetables in the store and come up with a strategy to defeat the Pickle people.

2. Gather up more kitchen appliances and find more humans to go to war with the Pickle people.