Bilbo reaches into the pocket under his armpit and takes out the piece of paper contained within. The paper is red. Bilbo sees it and the color drains out of his face.\n"Oh no." He proclaims.\n"What is it?"\nWithout another word, Bilbo passes the paper across the table to you.\nIt says, "Ashes, ashes all fall down."\n"What?" You ask.\n"You picked the wrong pocket."\nA loud boom echoed outside.\n"What?" You ask.\nThe flash of white-hot heat evaporating your molecules comes as your only response.\nBad choice.\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>
"I really am sorry for scaring you. My name is Daryl."\n"Hey, I'm Bobby Steiner. My friends call me Bobby Stoner- or they did until I dumped all my weed onto the floor."\n"I'm really sorry. Maybe I can make it up to you. I was just coming over to see if you smoked the ganj- I've got some great stuff in my van. You down?"\nYou reply,\n\n[[Yeah dude, I'm down. I can clean this up later.|clean up the weed later]]\n[[I need to clean this up first, then I'll definitely come with you.|Sure, I'm down.]]
"Don't you dare call my wife a whore!" The guy screams.\nYou look at him in horror.\n"I didn't."\nThe guy gets to his feet and proclaims to the entire restaurant. "This man is fucking my wife and now he has the nerve to call her a whore to my face!"\nStarting to get mad yourself, you protest, "I did no such thing- and frankly you crazy fuck- I don't blame her for leaving you."\nHe's going to attack do you:\n\n[[Defend yourself.]]\n[[Refuse to fight.]]\n\n
<<if $tooquiet = true>>\nAlthea walks away.\nYou stand there for about thirty seconds, in shock of how stupid you are for not trying to get her to hang out. You think to chase after her. But before you can, someone screams, "Look out!"\nIt's too late. \n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/sharknado.jpg]]\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>\n\n<<else>>\nYou stand there and watch the girl of your dreams walk away.\nOne cannot help but be reminded of the ending of Dumb and Dumber.\n\n<<endif>>
\nThere is a man and a woman already sitting at your table. They are much older than you- but they're both hippies so you immediately feel at ease. You like hippies.\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/bilbopic.jpg]]\n"Good morning young man, welcome to breakfast!" The man exclaims as you sit down.\n"Good morning."\n"My name is Bilbo."\n\n[[Nice to meet you Bilbo.]]\n[[As in Baggins?]]\n\n
$Althea\nFlaming Tree Party
You open the trunk of your car, take out your devil sticks and start juggling. You're pretty good at them, not great- but pretty good. \nHere's a guy who's good:\n\n<html><iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/t8H1inbRFas" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe></html>\n\nWhile you're juggling a kid comes by with his parents and watches you for a minute or two. You let him try the sticks but when you tell his parents they're called 'devil sticks' they hurry away like touching them will somehow cause their child to be possessed by the devil and start spitting up pea soup all over everybody. \nYou're just getting back in the groove of the juggling when a voice from behind you asks, "Hey man, you on your way to see the Phish shows?"\nYou turn around to see a guy with long hair and wrap around sunglasses. He has a big grin on his face.\n\n[[Hell yeah- I'm going to the shows.|yesimgoing]]\n[[Leave me alone |insult]]\n
You can't resist. You have to know what he's doing.\n“Hey man, I have to ask, what’s that you’re doing while you hit the bowl?”\n“It’s something I learned from an Indian guy I met in Montana. I met him in pretty much the same way I’m met you, except I wasn’t at a diner- I was at a campground. Anyway, this Indian guy said he was thanking the great spirit for providing a world chock full of such good things like marijuana. I don’t do it for the exact same reasons, but I really liked the idea that pot is more of a sacrament than a recreational drug. I’m not really fond of the traditional “stoner.” I like the guy who gets high and takes a walk in the forest or reads a book or plays an instrument. The only thing about pot that should be against the law is to smoke it and then just sit around watching TV- that’s the real crime- wasting a buzz on such a passive activity.”\nYou remain quiet- you've sat in front of the TV high on many, many occasions. But, you agree with Daryl in principle, you were always aware you were wasting your buzz when you sat and watched the Simpsons instead of going outside and walking the earth- as Tarantino says, “like Kane, in kung Fu.”\n\n[[Continue|daryl2]]
The minute you take the weed out of your pocket the dude reveals he's an undercover cop.\nYou're fucked.\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>\n
<<set $cleanup = "true">>\n\nYou clean up the weed, stash anything even remotely incriminating out of sight and follow Daryl to his van.\n\n[[Go with Daryl]]
<html><b>An excerpt from your diary:\nWhy I love Phish</b></html>\n \nI saw my first show on 11/25/94 whe I was sixteen. Since then, I've seen two or three shows a tour- usually a couple of times a year- but I’ve never been able to do a whole tour from start to finish.\nSo why do I love Phish and why would I want to see more than one show at a time?\nSimply because there have never been two Phish shows alike. As a generalization, Phish doesn't play the same song the same way twice. Their repertoire is enormous, regularly rotating through a couple of hundred different songs. They can segue easily from rock to funk to spacey exploration- all in the space of a single jam. \nI think Jerry Garcia, Grandfather of the entire jamband scene put it best when he said, in reference to his own band,\n"The peopel who love the Grateful Dead are like people that love licorice. Not everyone loves licorice, but the people who like licorice, like it a lot."\nThe same holds true of Phish.\n\nSo that's why.\n\n[[Return to story |page2]]\n
[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/dobsmodel.png]]\n\n<html><b>\nNOTE: THIS GAME IS CURRENTLY UNDER CONSTRUCTION- THERE ARE DEAD LINKS AND MUCH WILL CHANGE BEFORE IT IS FINALIZED. IN THE MEANTIME- FEEL FREE TO EXPLORE AND IF YOU HAVE ANY COMMENTS FEEL FREE TO EMAIL ME AT whrdina@hotmail.com.\n<br><br>\nWelcome to the Diary of Bobby Stoner\nThe Interactive Game. </b></html>\n\nYou, the reader, will be stepping into the shoes of Bobby Steiner, known to his friends as Bobby Stoner.\nAs Bobby, you are 22-year-old, human male marijuana enthusiast who has recently graduated Indiana University with a dual majors in religion and Forestry Management. \n\n[[Next|page2]]\n\n\n\n\n\n
$Althea\nFlaming Tree Party
You turn on your heels and go to run towards the door. Just as you reach it, you come face to face with a pair of very unfriendly looking policemen. Before you know what is happening you're in cuffs in the back of a police cruiser. Your tour officially over.\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>
"I'm not going to fight you." You yell as the guy advances.\n"Good, it'll make kicking your ass that much easier."\nWhen he punches- you don't do anything and end up flat on your ass. This doesn't satisfy the guy, indeed, he's just getting going. \nIn the end, you suffer a broken leg, two broken ribs and a burst blood vessel in your right eye.\nThere's got to be a moral in there somewhere.\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>
<<set $miracle = "true">>\n\n“Alright, I'll pick a pocket, but I don’t want to get a piece of paper with a date on it that you’re going to say is the date of my death. If you’re going to lay that trip on me I’d just prefer to avoid the hassle.” you say.\n“It’s not anything like that- but now you mention it- doing something like that would be a pretty freaked out thing to do.”\n“Alright then, Mr. Bilbo- I will indeed pick a pocket.”\nWhich pocket do you choose?\n\n[[Pocket on his butt.|pocket1]]\n[[Pocket near his left knee.|pocket1]]\n[[Pocket under his armpit.|deathpocket]]\n[[Pocket by his right ankle.|pocket1]]\n\n
You are sitting at home in front of your computer, looking at the Ticketmaster page. \nYour electronic shopping cart is cued up to purchase tickets to nearly every Phish show during their 2000 summer tour. [[Who the fuck are Phish? |Who are Phish]] \nA joint burns merrily away in the corner of your mouth and your finger hovers over the mouse button.\nYou can:\n\n[[Purchase the tickets.]]\n\n[[Don't purchase the tickets. Instead, you can put that money into a Roth IRA and earn 4% annually. |Save your money.]]\n
$books\nJune 23\nNext Morning- \nTake Call or not\nGet offered position\nTake position or not?\nBooks or Not
You leave all of the pot laying on the floor and get out of your car. \n\n[[Continue...|Go with Daryl]]
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You can't quit. Don't be ridiculous.\n\n[[Continue...|noquit]]
<<if $nug eq "true">>\nThe first thing you do in the morning is pull on the hoodie you wore the day before to fight off the morning chill. When you do, you get an exceptionally strong smell of weed. Curious, you reach into the pocket of your sweatshirt and you discover...\na very small plastic bubble of the sort you get out of quarter toy dispensers at Pizza Buffet restaurants. The kind that normally holds a super-ball or a temporary tattoo.\n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/toybubble.jpg]]\n\n Inside the plastic dome is a good-sized hunk of Daryl's amazing pot. With a squee of joy and a measure of amazement, you hide it with the rest of your weed in the bowels of the car.\nIt is fair to say the rest of your weed has inferiority issues. \n<<else>>\n.\n<<endif>>\n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/624.jpg]]\n\n<html><b>\nJune 24, 2000<br>\nAtlanta, GA.<br>\nMiles Travelled: 530 miles<br>\nTotal hours driving- 16<br><br>\n\n<u>\nCash Or Trade For Your Extra\n</u></b></html>\n\nAs soon as you get parked the first thing you do is put on your stereo as loud as it goes. \nYou begin what you expect will be a long day of yelling,\n"Cash or trade for your extra."\nWhen you say 'trade' everyone on the lot knows you mean that you have drugs to trade for the price of a ticket. Tickets cost about 50 bucks- the same as an eighth of really good pot, just like the kind you have in your pocket.\n\nA guy walks up with a thin beard and a generic tie-dye t-shirt.\n"Hey dude, you got weed to sell?"\n\nYou have one extra bag- the one you want to use to trade for a ticket. On the other hand, if you get enough money for the weed, you'll have a better chance of buying a ticket for cash.\nDo you...\n\n[[Ask the guy how much money he'll pay.|sellit]]\n[[Keep the bag to trade.|nosellit]]
With a rather sickening crack, you break the guys arm. He cries out in pain, his agression turning into the mewling cries of a baby. \nObviously, you never paid attention to any of the martial arts movies you've seen in your life. You're not supposed to hurt people just because you can. \nAny sympathy the people in the diner might've felt toward you evaporated the moment the guy's bone cracked.\nYou turn on your heels and go to run towards the door. Just as you reach it, you come face to face with a pair of very unfriendly looking policemen. Before you know what is happening you're in cuffs in the back of a police cruiser. Your tour officially over.\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>
<<set $cleanup = "true">>\n"That's cool. I'm going too. But just for tonight's show, after that I've got to head home. I've been following The Dead for the past two weeks. You want to take a break from juggling and smoke some ganj with me?"\n\n[[Sure thing- they don't call me Bobby Stoner for nothing.|Go with Daryl]]\n[[Nah, I'm cool.|Drugs are bad]]\n\n
As is customary in such moments on the lot, we hugged. With hippies- the hug is equivalent to a handshake. I consciously fought the urge to hug her for more than the traditional moment, but she held me for an extra second- to my increasing astonishment. The 80 million pounds of hormones flooding my system made me practically forget to be excited I was indeed going to catch tonight’s show (and considering how good it was- I was crazy to forget this!).\nI told her my name and she told me hers- it’s Althea. \nShe turned to her three friends who were watching us, now looking interested in what their friend had acquired. \n“You want to puff a bowl?” I asked, not wanting this girl to go wandering out of my life.\n“You have glass•?” She asked.\nI looked offended. “Of course I do. Don’t be silly.” \nAlthea grinned. It was the right answer. (It’s always the right answer) I went into my trunk and pulled out the puffy cloth sack that held my bowl. I took it out and she admired it. I have a really nice piece and I take retarded good care of it. The colors rippled in the sunlight. We sat together and smoked. Her friends were there, and I know I talked to them, but in my memory there is only Althea, her memory is razor sharp in my mind and everyone else is just a hazy blur. \nThe whole day was like that. I’m glad I’m in the habit of writing down setlists because if I didn’t- I wouldn’t know what songs they played. For the first time at a Phish show, I was paying attention to something other than the music- although I totally loved the jam about 13 minutes into Drowned during the first set. It’s not uncommon for me not to say a single word while the band is playing- whether I’m alone or with friends.\nI remember one moment in particular. One I hope I’ll never forget. I was standing in the lawn. The grass was cool on my feet and there was a wonderful breeze blowing on my face. Phish was playing “The Meatstick,” a song that was debuted as an attempt to unseat “the Macarena” as the most popular dance craze of all time. They wrote the tune for the aforementioned super-heated New York festival in 1999 and tried, unsuccessfully, to beat out the cursed Macarena by having all 65,000 people do the Meatstick at the same time- but it didn’t count because of some Guiness Book of World Records technicality. \nSince then, they’ve played the song infrequently, but then, when they got to Japan, according to a story Trey told tonight, they discovered “The Meatstick” was a full on dance craze. They were so honored they learned the Japanese lyrics and sang them while they were over there. At this show he told the story and decided to use the alternative lyrics. What followed was a whole string of songs with brief Japan references including a mention of Tokyo in their cover of the Talking Heads tune “Cities.” \nI was laughing like an idiot and watching Althea laugh and we were both doing the ridiculous steps that go along with the dance. I should’ve felt self-conscious or silly. But I didn’t. In fact, to my own amusement and mild horror, I suddenly pictured myself marrying and getting old with this woman. I know that sounds dorky and stupid- I think it does even while I’m writing this down- but it’s the truth. I think I sort of believe in love at first sight now- even though I used to be a firm believer love at first sight doesn’t exist. \nOf course, since I’m a recently graduated philosophy student, there is a part of my brain informing me that I didn’t “love” Althea at all, I loved the complicated facade my imagination was placing onto a woman I really know almost nothing about. Because that is all the love you see in movies is anyway- a farce- a façade- a flim-flam. Love requires familiarity. You can’t love someone in any meaningful way until you’ve really gotten to know them. However, you absolutely CAN lust someone, and I lust Althea a great deal.\nAfter the show Althea said she wanted to hang out, but she had to take one of her friends home because she was flying back to California or something. Normally I’d probably assume this was bullshit- a ruse to get away from me- but not with Althea. I believed her. At her suggestion we exchanged cell phone numbers. \nBecause neither of us was in our home calling range it would be insanely expensive to actually have a conversation, so we set up a system where we’d meet on the left side of the venue’s main entrance (whichever one was labeled ‘A’ or ‘1’) fifteen minutes after getting a call. So she would call me, let it ring a couple of times and hang up. Then I would call her back, let it ring a couple of times and hang up to let her know I knew it was her. She said she wouldn’t be able to get to another show until Pennsylvania. She had to go home and spend the fourth of July with her parents. But she was planning on seeing the Pennsylvania show and she also had tickets for the last 4 shows of the tour- 2 of the 3 Deer Creek nights and the two nights in Ohio. \nAlthea gave me a final hug and started to walk away. Then she doubled back and gave me a brief, but extremely friendly, kiss on the mouth before turning again and saying, “I’ll see you in Burgettstown.”\nFor the next ten minutes I wandered around in a haze, the aftermath of the kiss making me feel as giddy as my first, with Lori Boyd in the school playground. I didn’t come on tour to find a girlfriend, but if Althea turned out to be THE ONE, then we’d have a great story to tell our grandkids. If not, hopefully the memory of this day will bring a smile to my face when I read this again when I’m 70.\n\n[[job offer]]
You flip over the frisbee, throwing the weed onto the floor of the car. \nYou hear a voice say, "Oh shit, don't do that!"\nYou look up and learn a valuable lesson: there's no reason to be paranoid- unless they're really out to get you.\nThe guy standing outside of the window has a huge, bushy beard with a couple of glass beads in it. His hair is long and he's wearing wraparound sunglasses. He is clearly distressed about the way you just threw your weed on the ground.\n"That was crazy dude- I'm so sorry." He said through the closed window.\nYou reply:\n\n[[You asshole- look what you made me do!|You scared me]]\n[[You just startled me]]\n\n
“I’m writing in my journal.” He replies curtly.\nThis really doesn't tell you very much. \nSo you ask, “What are you writing about?”\n“It’s private.” Then after a pause, he asks, “Why do you want to know what I’m writing?”\n“I don’t know, you just looked really intent doing it- I was just wondering what you were getting on about.”\n“I’m writing about what a bitch my ex-wife is.”\nInternally you cringe. It was clearly a major misstep talking to this dude. You know if you stay where you are, you're going to get an earful of crap. Guys who start ripping on their exes as a conversation starter are generally not coming from a happy place.\nWhat should you do?\n\n[[Since you started the conversation- you should see it through. |asshole3]]\n[[Life's too short to talk to assholes.|Life's too short.]]
<<set $tooquiet = "true">>\nThe guy looks at you like you have two heads.\n"Okay dude, sorry. I just wanted to offer to get you high. Whatever, your loss."\nThe guy starts to walk away, pauses, turns back to you and says, "Seriously- there's no reason to be a dick- that's what <html><b>THEY</b></html> do."\nHe's right. Don't be a dick.\n\nFeeling chastized, you go to the show.\n\n*[[Continue...|Pre-Althea1]]
"Ah, I see we have a man familiar with literature. Indeed, as in Baggins of Tolkien fame. And this lovely woman sitting with me is my wife Rhonda."\n"Nice to meet you." She smiles.\nYou reach out your hand to shake, but she knocks it aside and gives you a hug as if you were her long last grandson.\n\n[[Continue.|Nice to meet you Bilbo.]]
Bilbo asks, “And what's your name young man?"\n"Bobby Stoner." You respond.\nBilbo looks at your eyes, grins, and says, "Your name is apt I think? Is it your legal name?"\n"Nah, my legal name is Bobby Steiner. But nobody except my professors and my parents call me that."\n"You should change it officially. Names are like the one place the state pretty much keeps out of it. I could be named Apple Fooball Cornmuffin and Uncle Sam won't care as long as he gets his cut come tax day. I'm told the only exception is profanity. Can't change my name legally to fuckhead, but I think you'll agree that's probably for the best. My full legal name is Bilbo. I don't have a last name."\nHe takes out his driver's license and shows it to you.\nBilbo continues, "My name isn’t just an affectation- it is a reflection of who I am. I don’t have a surname, but I do have a title.” \n“And what might your title be?” You ask.\n“Reverend.”\nYou should’ve known.\n\n[[Ask about the Reverend's church.|fun]]\n[[Don't ask- it'd be better if he kept his religion to himself.|fringe]]\n\n
"Did you just say you want me to smoke marijuana?" The guy asks in a VERY loud voice.\nYou don't need to look around much to know everyone is staring at you.\n"Excuse me, Miss- Call the police. This man is a drug addict!" The guy proclaims, pointing his finger at you and scowling fiercely.\nDo you:\n\n[[Run|bigmistake2]]\n[[Stay put.|hes nuts]]
Well alright then, let's get started.\n\nWe're going back to the year 2000.\n\nFor those who don't remember it, the year 2000 was a simpler time.\n9-11 was still a year away, so you didn't have to take your shoes off in the airport.\nThere were no ipods, ipads, tablets or smartphones. A cell phone was smaller and all it did was make phone calls. Minutes were hella expensive. \nPluto was still a planet.\nWe did, however, know the earth was round.\n\nOn December 31, 1999, you were among the 80,000 fans who [[rang in the new millenium with Phish.|Big Cypress]]\n \nSix months later, on June 21, 2000, you walk out of your house, start the car, pull out of the driveway and begin the journey from Bloomington, Indiana to Atlanta, Georgia- the location of your Phish 2000 Summer Tour debut (They are playing a show in Tennessee that is the actual debut- but you're skipping it)\n\nDriving takes a long-ass time. You listen to your extensive collection of live tapes and CDs and smoke the occasional joint. It's mostly boring. We'll just skip ahead.\n\n[[Arrive in Atlanta.|June 23 2000]]\n
Austin City Limits\n\n$althea is PRIMARY STRING\n$althea- yes- Continue toward happy ending\n$althea- no- Shunt off to tragic ending\n\n$future- yes- Happy ending\n$future- no- you give her ur ticket and she meets and runs away with sound engineer\n\n$nug- yes- happy ending\n$nug- no- can't get her in- she is arrested buying acid- flips on you- gets you busted too.
Okay. You don't buy the tickets, you don't meet the girl of your dreams, your life is boring and you die. Whee.\n\nYou do take a little of the money and purchase the Lego Millenium Falcon, so that's cool I guess.\n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/mfalc.png]]\n\nStoner out.\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>
Pot fairy in teepee
The hems and haws for a second before saying, "I'll give you $50."\nIt's an even trade. Should you:\n\n[[Take it. |sell the weed]]\n[[Leave it. |nosellit]]
"The CHURCH OF FUN. That stands for Freedom, Unity and Non-Violence. Now, to be clear, the Church of FUN isn't a place of worship. Far from it. It is a place of frivolity. Of FUN! I don’t think Church should be a bunch of solemn praying and lecturing and uncomfortable kneeling. My church is simply a celebration of the most basic fact of our lives- we aren’t dead. Now, as a holy man, I can tell you with absolute certainty that a majority of the people walking around on the earth are dead. Maybe not physically- they still breathe and take up valuable natural resources- but they might as well be dead."\nBilbo lit a cigarette and drew on it deeply. He exhaled and began coughing. A terrible sound came from his chest- the audio version of broken glass. Once he’d gotten his breath back, Bilbo went on to tell you one of the most convoluted stories you’ve ever heard in your life. \nThe details escape you even as he tells them because nothing seems to fit together in a way that makes even a remote kind of sense. You remember the major elements. Bilbo owns a farm- he had some kind of party with a very large number of people and an untold number of government investigative agencies present. There was also a fire hose, several hits of acid and a deboned carp- but you were never able to figure out where they fit in teh narrative structure. You couldn't help glancing at your soda and wondering if the old man and his wife hadn't snuck somthing into your drink when you weren't looking. \nHe hadn’t- like Frank Zappa- Bilbo didn’t need drugs to be a freak.\nHe proves this with his next sentence.\n\n[[Continue...|pocket]]\n
"Well, I hope that things work out with your ex." You say and get the hell out of there, getting up and walking to the far end of the waiting area. \nAs soon as you withdraw, the man deflates a bit and returns to his notebook. You don't really want to think what craziness is probably written in his notebook. Probably things like 'all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'\n\n[[Wait.|Take Your Seat]]
"Dude, I'll tear you in half." You say in a matter of fact tone. \nThe guy doesn't listen. He comes straight at you. With the confidence of training, you step easily out of his way and with two quick movements lock the guy into an armbar. \n"Let me go!" He roars.\nBut that's all he can do. You can the armbar locked. He's not going anywhere. \n"Can someone get a cop or something?" You ask no one in particular. \nAs luck would have it, a pair of cops walk in at that very moment. They see you and rush over. To your genuine surprise, they resist the urge to just crack you over the head and ask questions later. Instead, they handcuff the still struggling guy and just hold you off to the side until the talk to a waitress both men are familiar with.\n"Flo tells us this man attacked you. Is that true?"\n"Yes- but I don't want to press charges or cause any trouble. If you can just get him to leave so I can have breakfast without worrying about getting jumped, that'd be fine."\n"Generous of you. Somebody attacked me like that- I'd press charges."\nYou shrug.\n"Okay, good enough. Have a good day sir."\n"You too." \nThey take the guy out.\n\n[[Continue|Take Your Seat]]
with althea or not\nNeed $book
Daryl wasn't exaggerating. You can't believe how good the pot is. The smoke comes out with a greenish tinge and its as smooth as drinking a glass of water. You probably won't smoke anything like it ever again- even if you live to be a hundred. \nYou say, “I would pay you just about any amount of money you ask for an eighth (of an ounce) of this.” \nYou know this is against hippie protocol- but you think you’d be silly not to try.\n“Sorry man. I know it looks like a lot, but I have a sacred promise with the guy who grows this stuff that I will only share it- never debase it with commercialization.”\n“It’s all good.” You say, wanting to drop the subject quickly. \n“It’s not all good. It just all is. And take care of your ass- for it bears you.” Daryl replies, laughing.\n“Where’d you hear that?” You ask.\n“This crazy wookie on Dead lot in like 1990. The phrase was on an old hand-written guide to fixing VW buses he had from the early 70’s. I don’t know if that part is true, but I know that advice stuck with me from the first time I heard it.” \nYou hang out a while longer, smoking 3 or maybe 4 bowls of the fantastic pot before you tell Daryl you've had enough.\nYou smoke pot all the time- but you're super-stoned. \n\n[[You exchange emails with Daryl and wish him a good show.|Daryl3]] \n\n
<<set $nug = "true">>\nDaryl has a sweet VW mini-bus. It is painted bright green. There is only one bumper sticker on the van, it says,\n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/randomactsbeauty.jpg]]\n\nYou climb in and take a seat. Daryl reaches under one of the seats and pulls out a shoebox. He takes off the lid and pulls out a bag of some of the best pot you've ever seen outside the pages of High Times magazine. \nDaryl pauses, and says, “It's my birthday- the occasion calls for a bit of the good stuff.”\nYou try to play it cool, but the stuff he showed you already was good stuff- really, really good stuff.\nIt crosses your mind to wonder if he's going to want to put cocaine on the pot or something. You don't roll like that.\nThankfully, this is not his plan. Daryl comes out with an airtight canning jar.\nSitting inside was the gnarliest nugget of marijuana you’ve ever seen. One single bud, the size of a peach. You can still close your eyes and picture it.\n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/closeupnug.jpg]]\n\nThere are so many THC crystals, they glitter through the thick glass- even in the van's indirect light. In addition to its wealth of crystals, the bud has the density of a small neutron star. \n“Wow.” you say, marveling.\n“You can say that again. You, my friend, have very good timing.”\nHe takes a pair of scissors out of a sealed plastic bag.\n“The smell is so strong even the scissors have to go into quarantine.” \nYou grin like a very happy madman.\nWhen he opens the container, it's like a pot bomb has gone off, the entire van is drenched in the heady aroma. You watch, rapt, as he cuts off a bowl-sized hunk from the super-bud.\n“Watch this,” He says, and gingerly sticks a finger into the mouth of the jar. He touches the hunk he cut off with the scissors and lifts his finger. Without making any attempt to hold the pot- it sticks as if covered with superglue. He holds the pot in front of you and wiggles his finger. It doesn’t fall off. \n“Does this strain have a name?” You ask.\n“At home, we just call this stuff The Shit.”\n“That is a very good name,” you agree.\nDaryl practices a very peculiar ritual: every time he hits the bowl he closes his eyes and lifts the bowl up over his head. He holds it there while he holds his breath. When he releases the plume of smoke, he opens his eyes and passes the bowl over to you.\n\n[[Ask why he's smokes like that]]\n[[Who cares why he smokes like that, let's get high! |daryl2]]
\n"I'm sure she wasn't that bad." You say, trying to calm the guy down.\n"What? Did she fuck you too?" The man growls at you.\nClearly, this guy is a nutter.\nYou can:\n\n[[Reply, "No, of course I didn't fuck her."|fightcrazy]]\n[[Reply, "Look, dude, you look pretty stressed, you want to go outside and smoke a joint with me?"|bigmistake]]
“Pick a pocket and learn your future.”\nBilbo is wearing a pair of Osh-Kosh-B-Gosh overalls. Somewhere along the way he'd gotten a hold of some needle and thread and a wide variety of fabric. He applied tons of extra pockets- the overalls were covered with them.\n"There are 114 pockets total the last time I counted." He boasts.\nYou believe him. \n“I’m not a big fan of prognostication.” you reply, honestly.\n"I understand, but in this case, I think you should make an exception."\nIt's up to you:\n\n[[Pick a pocket.]]\n[[Don't pick a pocket.]]
Seriously? Live a little! This is an imaginary story for fucks sake.\n\nWait, that's a little harsh. How about this instead?\n\nYou tell the waitress that you don't want to eat with other people- that it isn't your problem the diner doesn't have enough seats. She does her best not to look annoyed at you- and almost succeeds. \nThe hostess leads you to your table. You sit down and she gives you a menu. Just as you open it, a rabid hippo crashes through the front window of the diner and crushes you underfoot.\n\nI'm sure there's a moral in there somewhere.\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>
<<set $tooquiet = "true">>\nWell, that's a boring choice.\nYou finish rolling your joint.\nYou sit in your car listening to the music and bobbing your head politely while you wait for a table to open up. After a while, the waitress pokes her head out of the door and waves you inside.\nYou eat and head out for the show.\n\n[[Continue...|Pre-Althea1]]
<<set $tooquiet = "true">>\nYou sit quietly next to the angriliy scribbling man feeling uncomfortable and a bit concerned since he's not really speaking coherently except for the word 'fuck' which he is repeating every few seconds. After what seems like an eternity, he finally gets a seat and is replaced by a very old woman who smell of Vics vapo rub and cigarettes. \nA million years after that, the waitress finally comes to get you.\n\n[[Take your seat.|Take Your Seat]]
with althea or not\n\nNeed $book
Seriously?\n\n[[Yes, I am worried about investing in a silly adventure book.|Saveyourmoney2.]]\n\n[[Okay, you're right- I'll just pull that stick out of my butt and buy the tickets.|Purchase the tickets.]]
The Diary of Bobby Stoner- INTERACTIVE GAME
<<set $tooquiet = "true">>\nDude- I said I was sorry. It's not my fault you freaked out. I was just coming over here to ask if you wanted to smoke some ganj. I have some really good stuff and today is my birthday. I was going to totally get you high."\nThe guy walks away.\nYou do your best to clean up your weed and, no longer in the mood to smoke, wait for the waitress to come out and get you. After 45 minutes, she does. You eat your food in silence, still feeling like a dick. \n\n[[Finally, you head off to the show.|Pre-Althea1]]
You walk up to the hostess and give her your name.\nShe says, "Yes sir, I was hoping I could appeal to you to share a table with two other people. We are terribly busy and it really would help us out if we could avoid putting a single person at a four top. You don't have to but it really would help me out.\n\n[[It's fine. I gotta eat. |It's fine]]\n[[I don't care how hungry I am, I'm not eating with other people. |Not eating]]
Five minutes later, you're leaning against the side of your car, your finger in the air, yelling about your desire to get a ticket when you hear a woman's voice behind you ask, “What sort of a kind trade?”\nA little startled, you turn around and find yourself face to face with what is, for your taste, pretty much the perfect girl.\nHer hair is ------. Her eyes are ------. Her -------s are ------ and --------. \nYou are enamored.\n"You have an extra ticket?" You manage to ask after you wrench the frog from your throat.\n"Yeah, my cheating-ass ex boyfriend is going to have to buy his own. We broke up a week ago and the fucker had the nerve to call me and ask me for the ticket that I paid for. I told him to fuck off."\nYou like her spunk immediately.\nYou say, “Well, I have nugs and an eighth of mushrooms if you would like to trade.” \n“Let’s see the nugs.”\nYou smile. “Let’s see the ticket.” \n“What? You don’t trust me?” She asked, looking adorably pouty when she said it. \n“I have a firm policy of only trusting people as far as they trust me.”\n“Fair enough. I’ll pull out mine and you pull out yours at the same time.”\n“Okay, just to be clear, we’re still talking about the same thing right?” You flirt.\n"For now, yeah." She flirts back- to your utter shock. She continues, “Okay, at the count of three. Are you ready? One, two…”\n“Three.” you said, and pull out your extra baggie of weed.\nShe reaches into her own pocket and brings out...\n\n[[Continue...|noquit-B]]
You turn and look at the woman standing at the hostess section. You expect her to look angry and suspicious. She looks neither.\nYou take a gamble.\n"I have no idea what this guy's talking about." You say, putting on your most angelic face.\n"Don't worry about Hank honey- he's always ranting about one thing or another. No one takes him seriously. Hell, last week he kept insisting I was with the CIA."\n"You are." Hank growls from next to you.\n"Why don't we just go ahead and sit you down now?" She asks. "We'll need to sit you down with another couple at a four top- but they said they wouldn't mind."\n\n[[It's fine. I gotta eat. |It's fine]]\n[[I don't care how hungry I am, I'm not eating with other people. |Not eating]]
A ticket!\nYou exchange items. The ticket looks genuine. You take the cigarette you've had nonchalantly hanging off of your lip and bring it close to the paper. The ticket reacts immediately, the paper turning brown and starting to turn black in a concentric circle. \nIt was real.\nIn the meantime, the girl is eying the weed you gave her. It's pretty good, with nice, tight buds. She waves over the three girls she is walking with. They come over and make a big deal over smelling the pot before nodding their approval.\n"We got a deal?" You ask.\n"Equal trade?"\n"Yeah."\n"Sounds good. What's your name?"\n"Bobby Stoner." You reply.\n"That's fitting. I'm Althea."\nShe introduces her friends, but you don't really hear their names. You are entirely too enamored of Althea.\n\nThe ticket is now yours- you get to see the show!\nYou can:\n\n[[Invite them to smoke a bowl with you.|altheayes]]\n[[Tell Althea to have a good show and go on your way.|altheano]]
Music blaring, you take your small car stash out of the glove compartment. It is only enough weed for a single joint. The rest of your weed is hidden in a soda pop stash can in the frame of your car. \n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/stashcan.jpg]]\n\nGetting to it requires you to stick your arm into the body of your car via a small access hatch in the trunk.\nYou are in the process of breaking up your weed on a frisbee sitting on your lap when you are startled by a knocking on your window.\n\n[[Don't take any chances- dump the weed- there's not very much it'll just look like lawn clippings |Ditch the weed]]\n[[Play it cool and see what you're dealing with.]]
<<set $cleanup = "true">>\nWith a sleight of hand worthy of David Copperfield, you slide your hand over the frisbee of weed and swivel your head towards the window. If it's a cop, he couldn't see shit.\nWhen you turn around, you discover you had nothing to worry about. A guy is grinning down at you. He has long hair, a big beard with a glass bead woven into it and wraparound sunglasses.\nDefinitely not a cop.\n"Hey dude." He says.\n"Hey."\n"I was just wondering, I saw you walking out of the diner- you look like a fellow traveler. I'm about to take a smoke break. You want to smoke some ganj?"\n\n[[No, I'm good.|Drugs are bad]]\n[[Hell yeah, let's go!|Go with Daryl]]\n
<<set $crazy = "true">>\nYou sit down in the cramped dining room next to a clean-cut man wearing a shirt and tie. He is hunched over a small black leather notebook with a pencil. He is writing furiously on his pad and muttering to himself. \n\n[[Ask him what he's doing|Asshole2]]\n[[Leave him alone, curiosity killed the cat.|ignore1]]\n[[Just go outside.|OUTSIDE]]\n
As a religion major, you have learned, the last thing you want to do is talk about religion with a dreadlocked old guy. You quickly change the subject.\n"Are you guys seeing The Dead or are you on Phish tour?"\n"We're old school- following the Dead. It's not the same since Jerry died, but the fringe is still there- and that's all that matters to me."\n"What do you mean, the fringe?"\n“The fringe is the outskirts. The fringe is marked by the place society’s authorities finally stop paying attention. It is the area where genius is drawn like iron filings to a magnet. The main value of society is to provide an infrastructure for the fringe to be outside of. The entire tour scene exists on the fringe of public consciousness. If people really understood what went on out here- do you think they’d just nod and smile? Nope. Uncle Sammy and his jackbooted thugs would have tanks outside the front of this place. But they don’t, because they don’t know we’re here. We’re invisible- and therefore we’re free. Cops certainly arrest a certain number of people- but they just grab the low-hanging fruit. They know they could search everyone and 95% of the people would have some sort of contraband on their person- but unless you’re acting like a fucking idiot- you’re as safe here as you are in your own home- maybe even a little safer.”\n"It'd be better if they just legalized everything."\n"Don't hold your breath- we've been expecting legalization since the 70's. I'm starting to wonder if it'll ever happen during my lifetime. Which reminds me, I have a little game I would like to play with you."\n"What game?" You ask.\n\n[[Continue...|pocket]]
Playing on an Indian Reservation in Florida, the band turned in an eight and a half hour set- not quitting until the sun rose on the new century.\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/phishcypress.jpg]]\nIt changed your life.\n\n[[Back|Purchase the tickets.]]
<<if $crazy eq "true">>\nHappy to escape the crazy guy in the diner, you go outside and walk to your car.\n<<else>>\nYou go outside and walk to your car.\n<<endif>> \nIt is a beautiful day, the sun is shining. \nYou light a cigarette and look around. \n\nThe air smells nice, everything is very green with lots of flowers.\nExcited for the first of a long string of shows, you go around to the front passenger seat and root through the ridiculous pile of tapes abd CDs there. You find a good set from Phish's legendary Fall '97 tour and pop it in. \nYou turn up the volume to brain melting levels \nYou can:\n\n[[Stay in the car and roll a joint.|joint]]\n[[Get out and play devil sticks.|devil sticks]]\n[[I prefer the air conditioning in the diner.|INSIDE]]
You step out of Daryl's van and immediately notice the two cops standing next to your car. \n<<if $cleanup eq "true">>\nThey are clearly giving you the stink eye. It is obvious they are loitering around, waiting to see who owns the car.\nThis attitude might have something to do with your bumper sticker.\n\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/badcopnodonut.jpg]]\n\nThey would love to be able to mess with you- but they got nothing. You walk right past the cops and eat an enjoyable meal of eggs and bacon. When you come back out, the cops are long gone.\n[[Off to the show!...|Pre-Althea1]]\n<<else>>\nAs soon as the cops see you looking at them, one of the guys comes over and asks you if the car is yours. You confirm it is and the next thing you know you're in handcuffs. \nThe cop says, "Look kid, we try to be cool about things- kids smoking pot might not be our highest priority these days- but you left your shit just laying out on the floor in broad daylight for anyone to see. This is a family restaurant. You can't do that- we got not choice but to take you to jail."\n\n<html><b>THE END</b></html>\n\n<html>\n<embed type="audio/x-mp3" \nsrc="http://www.williamhrdina.com/dobsint/loser.mp3" autostart="true" loop="true" width="2" height="0"></ \nembed></html>\n\n<<endif>>\n\n
<<set $miracle = "false">>\n<<if $tooquiet eq "true">>\n"It's cool man, I really don't want to pick a pocket. I just don't believe in fate."\nBilbo shrugged.\n"Okay, I really think you should- but my trip isn't making up people's minds for them."\nApparently the universe is annoyed with your unwillingness to go along with its plans.\nJust as you get up to leave a car backfires outside, which causes a waitress at the next table to jump in surprise just as she's pouring coffee for a man who is in the midst of eating a hearty breakfast of steak and eggs. When the waitress spills, the coffee splashes onto the man's lap- who throws his hands up in shock and surprise. \nIn the process he accidentally plants a knife in your throat. You let out a gurgling sound and fall to the ground.\n\nI'm sure there's a moral in there somewhere.\n\n<html><b>\nTHE END</b></html>\n<<else>>\n"It's cool man, I really don't want to pick a pocket."\nBilbo shrugged.\n"Okay, I really think you should- but my trip isn't making up people's minds for them."\n\nThe remainder of the meal was pretty quiet after that. Feeling like you might've screwed up, you pay your check and leave the diner.\n\n[[Off to the show!|Pre-Althea1]]\n<<endif>>\n\n
[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/623.jpg]] \n\n<html><b>\n<u>EPISODE 1</u>\nJune 23, 2000<br>\nAtlanta, GA.<br>\nMiles Travelled: 530 miles<br>\nTotal hours driving- 16<br><br>\n\nDrug Inventory: Enough personal weed to get you through to the end, one extra eighth of weed to trade for a ticket, a case of micro brews, an eighth of mushrooms, four tabs of LSD, and two cartons of cigarettes.<br><br>\n\n\n\n</b></html>\nIt's Georgia.\n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/atlanta.jpg]]\nYou are in a diner. \n[img[http://williamhrdina.com/dobsint/diner.jpg]]\nIt's kinda shitty, but it smells good- insofar as you can smell the food through the cigarette smoke. \nOn the bright side, you have plenty of money. On the less bright side, the diner is packed with people and you just heard the waitress say the wait is at least 45 minutes. \n\nYou can sit in the restaurant or you can wait outside.\n\n[[Wait outside.|OUTSIDE]]\n\n[[Wait inside.|INSIDE]]\n\n\n\n
"Sorry man, I don't sell stuff- I'm just trying to get a ticket." You reply.\n"Are you sure?"\n"Just trying to get a ticket."\nThe guy looks frustrated and walks away.\nSmart move- he was totally an undercover cop. The generic tie-die t-shirt is a giveaway. So is the half-grown beard. It looks bad because the pigs just got the assignment the week before and their beards don't have time to grow in properly.\nNo big deal, there's lots of other people on the lot.\nYou stand around by your car for nearly two hours, hawking your need for a ticket every thirty seconds or so. It's pretty boring. A few more people try to buy your weed but no one has a ticket. You're starting to think you're not going to be able to get one.\n\n[[Just give up. What's one show?|quit]]\n[[There's no quitting at Phish shows.|noquit]]
<<set $miracle = "true">>\nYou pick your pocket and Bilbo pulls out a very battered slip of paper. \nWithout a word he reaches out and hands it to you. The handwriting is childish and blocky. \nIt says, “One more thing I have to say- I need a miracle everyday”\n“What’d you get?” Bilbo asked. \nIt was easy to remember the line- it was from the Grateful Dead, you recite it to him.\nBilbo grins and nods. “Almost every pocket contains a lyric from a Grateful Dead song. And so far, I’ve not met a person who hasn’t taken something from the line they picked. In the Church of FUN- you’ve just partaken of the WORD as brought forth by Jerry.”\nYou resist the urge to correct Bilbo. “I Need a Miracle” is a Bobby Weir song and it is not written by Jerry Garcia.\nThe food comes and you are quiet while you eat. When you've finished eating, you put your money on the table, stretch and head out to the show with a full stomach and the promise of a miracle in your pocket.\n\n[[Off to the show!|Pre-Althea1]]
Dude comes at you swinging wildly. For five years you trained in juijitsu. You have a number of options when it comes to stopping the guy.\nDo you want to:\n\n[[Just stop him.]]\n[[Teach him a lesson he'll never forget.]]
Riot
William Hrdina\nhttp://www.williamhrdina.com\n\n
The setlist from tonight's show:\n\nFriday, 06/23/2000 \nLakewood Amphitheatre, Atlanta, GA\nSet 1: Ya Mar, My Soul, Bathtub Gin, Heavy Things, Back on the Train > David Bowie, Cars Trucks Buses, Farmhouse\nSet 2: Rock and Roll > Jesus Just Left Chicago > Down with Disease > Twist, Contact > Makisupa Policeman > Character Zero\nEncore: Brian and Robert, Possum\n\nGood show- lots of fun. Your only problem is your distinctive lack of ticket for tomorrow's show. In spite of a concerted effort on your part- you were not able to score a ticket yet. You go to sleep knowing your primary goal in life is to rectify this problem.\n\n[[Continue...|06242000]]\n\n\n