Bit By A Rabid Dog

At a church meeting I made a joke about Choose Your Own Adventure Books.  My sarcasm went undetected and the next day I had three brand new Choose Your Own Adventure Books leaning against my apartment door.  The first one is The Hunting Safari by T.J. Matthews and it’s 166 pages long.

I should not be making fun of CYOA Books that are made for kids.  But I can’t help myself.  CYOAB are written in second-person point of view, which uses the form of “You” (as opposed to “I” for first person point of view) and puts the reader as the main character.  For example the first sentence of the book reads, “Two of your best friends, David and Danielle, moved to Africa about three years ago.” I’m getting excited already.

(If you want to continue reading this, scroll down.)

(If you want to stop reading this, go screw yourself.)

I am visiting my best friends and their parents Debby and Darryl.  Which is really cute because all their names start with the letter D.  Danielle, the book tells us, has black eyes and brown hair, while David has blue eyes and blond hair.  I think Deb was cavorting with the tourists on her trips into the city for “medicine”. 

They live in Tanzania, where Kawahili is spoken, not English.  In Tanzania people bathe in Lake Victoria and hunt wildlife.  The book says that I’m scared I might never make it back to my home country.  Deb and Darryl are Bible translators for Wycliffe and are helping the Wazinza people translate the Bible into their language. 

When we finally arrive at their house David says we’re going to go hunting with slingshots.  Which I thought was ironic since the David in the Bible kills Goliath with, what else, but a slingshot.  And although it doesn’t say this in the book, I don’t want to go hunting.  Danielle had grown since I’d last seen her.  If you know what I mean.  She’s wearing like a size six shoe now.

But I guess I had no choice in the matter and I had to turn to page six. Debbie told us we had to be home by 5:30 and the book doesn’t say this, but I flipped her off when she turned her back.

I’ll let T.J. Matthews set the scene: “The air is dry and the sun is hot.”  The book doesn’t say this but by this time I’m getting a real bad jock itch.  When David isn’t looking I sneak a peak down my pants and see big rashes.  I’ll have to ask Deb if she has any cream.  If she doesn’t I’m sure she’d be happy to make a “medicine” run. David tries to shoot some birds, but he keeps missing.  The book says that I think he’s a good shot.  Suddenly I see a dark spot on the top of a far off tree.  The bird is frekin huge, with a long beak and brown and green feathers.       

The book gives me three options:

(If you decide to shoot your slingshot at the bird, go to page 8.)

(If you tell Dave about it, go to page 9.)

(If you ignore it, go to page 11)

Unfortunately, the book doesn’t give me the option I want, which is:

(If you’d like to have Danielle feeding you grapes in a hammock by the lake side, go to page 100.)   

I don’t want David to shoot the bird, because he’s thinks he such a hot shot.  (Haha get it. I used hot and shot and it has a double meaning.)  And even though I don’t want to have the blood of an endangered specie on my hands, if I don’t shoot it David might try.  I turn to page 8.

(If you want to continue reading, scroll down.)

(If you want to watch Britney Spears, click here.)

Page 8 says I put a rock into my slingshot and then it gives me three options.  I decide to go to page 18 because I’ve used a slingshot before, but I’m not very good at it. At page 18 I try to shoot the bird and miss.  All the African boys point and make fun of me.  I’m personally ready to drop my gloves and do some aggressive mingling, but the books says I make an excuse to go look for the rock I just shot so they’ll stop making fun of me.  I go off into the woods and suddenly see a dog that is foaming at the mouth.  He keeps tripping and is obviously sick.  I start to run away and the dog starts chasing me.  I don’t know where I’m running but the dog won’t stop chasing me. 

I can:

(Run until I find a tree to climb.)


(Try and run home.)

I decide to try and make it home.  The dog is gaining on me and I jump for a tree branch but it’s too late.  The dog bites me.  But then another dog scares off the rabid dog and when I look up I see Danielle standing over me.  The book doesn’t say this, but she’s wearing short brown shorts and needs to shave her legs.  She helps me get home and Darryl and Debbie call for a plane to fly us into the city so I can get shots.  The End.

That’s right, it ended after page 32.  And I was really thinking I had something with Danielle, because, although the book doesn’t say this, but when she was helping me back to the house my hand accidentally touched her hair. Maybe I’ll go back and say I’m an expert shot and kill the damn bird.

(If you thought this blog was mildly humorous, leave a comment.)

(If you thought this blog was a waste of your time, go screw yourself, and then leave a comment.)

4 thoughts on “Bit By A Rabid Dog

  1. danielle has a crush on you, but she knows you have a thing for britney spears and feels she pales in comparison, not to mention she forgot to shave her legs today and hopes you did not notice. she calls her friends dottie and donna to ask for advice. she tells them she had this strange impulse to feed you grapes while you were out hunting birds earlier that day. her friends tell her to completely ignore you because that always works. but to make sure that you see how cute she is after she copies britney’s latest hairstyle and makeup.

    you are delirious from the dog bite and the valium darryl gave you to calm your nerves, your eye sight is hazy and you notice someone with really big hair walking back and forth in front of your room but they won’t come inside.

    after awhile you get annoyed with the pacing person and shout…

    choose one option:

    a) take a break, that giant head must be hard to lug around!

    b) is that a wig or a rabid dog on your head?

    c) at least your head is not as hairy as danielle’s legs.

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