by Qara-Xuan Zenith on Sun Jun 29, 2014 9:56 am
1. Stick the arms into the ground 5 feet away from each other, stand between them and explode with the power of a thousand suns, like you do every Thursday.
2. Give them a proper burial, since the duck hunter's body mysteriously vanished, at least his lifeless arms should be treated with due respect.
3. Use them to signal a passing plane to land in the lake.
4. Paint faces on the hands and make them your new best friends, Handy and Armistice
5. Go on an adventure. Our mission: To locate the family of the duck-hunter and proudly present them with the duck hunter's arms.
Online 1d5 = 3.
Ah, yes. You knew this day would come-- this hour. All day, as your melancholy and malaise was building, you were slowly forming a plan to interrupt the uniformity, the monotony, the dullness of your days at this lake. At last you have the duck-hunter's arms, and night has fallen, and nothing now can stand in your way, or prevent you from, at last, making things more interesting around here.
You examine the arms once more: yes, they are indeed still luminous from the glow-in-the-dark powder the duck-hunter routinely covered them in, the better to attract and lure ducks close. You grin to yourself; you like that neon glow-in-the-dark yellow that's shining off the arms now, almost as much as you like dangling your feet in the water. The only thing better that you can imagine would be dangling your feet in the water while admiring the glow-in-the-dark powder on the arms...
But no. You quickly come down hard on that thought. You can dangle your feet in the water later; right now, you have a job to do. Holding the arms as high aloft above your head as you can, you run back and forth along the length of the bridge, waving the luminous arms frantically. You race down to the foot of the bridge, then charge across to the other side. Back. Again. Back. Again. Surely there must be an airplane somewhere close, getting curious about your signal. Surely it should be coming to land in the lake soon. You run to the other edge of the bridge again. You run back. You run forward. You run backward.
Finally you give up, collapsing breathless halfway across the bridge. Despite your apparent lack of success, you decide to reward your exhausting efforts by allowing yourself to dangle your feet in the water. Just as you are starting to grin helplessly at the squelchy feel of water on your feet and pretty sight of glow-in-the-dark arms, you hear the noise of someone or something approaching, and look up eagerly.
Who/what is there?
Lead by example. Get lost in a swamp.
AS DICTATED TO INSTANTIATION 17-01-18-01.