You Are About 10 Seconds Away From Execution By Firing Squad

DEATH 75

(Special Guest Update by Woffles and whoosh!)

Show Content

Spoiler

> Run away. Really fast.



The instant the very thought of Abraham Lincoln on a mutated zebra crossed your mind, all you could think of was finding the fastest way away from that... abomination! You ran away, as you should have long ago, you thought. Your hopes in defeating your grandmother faded away. You'd say like snow in the sun, but the snowy battlefield and the seemingly eternal night - though with your broken watch and the various skips in reality you no longer had any idea what time it actually was - stayed a constant in this neverending fray.



To be fair, you didn't plan this through in full. Perhaps the cold was getting to you Maybe it was hunger, fatigue, you mind unfurling at all this time-related nonsense.
Nevertheless, for some reason, whatever it was, you thought you could outrun a zebra. Needless to say, your escape was rather brief.

The disappiontment in the sixteenth president's face was clear to anyone. He truly hoped that you would have put up more of a fight. Being reanimated for the very goal of defeating a stray inmate, fugitive from death row, he thought his creator was desperate. That you were dangerous.

His glaive sparkled in the night, Abraham hung glorious over yet another victory in his career. But this time, it might have been his last. He had no idea what the Glorious Leader had in store for him, now that his task was complete. Prisonry? Deletion? Life as a municipal clerk?

No. It couldn't come to that.



You succumbed to the metal edge soon after he caught up with you. In your dying breath, you could only see a silhouette of America's greatest barge on towards Grandmother's cottage. Perhaps he meant to kill. Surely Lincoln counted as conventional means.

But what good is vindication if you aren't there to savor it?

BAD END
Reloading from last save...

> Challenge lincoln to a jousting match. Demand your own mount if he accepts.



A daring glint of instinct, combined with your incredible lack of assessment in situations like these causes you to call out to your assailant.

"Is this how you end my life, President Lincoln? Stabbing me in my most helpless moment?"

The president halts. Maybe you're onto something here.

"I expected more from our greatest president. How about we even the field? I demand from you an even battle! Weapon and mount, fit for a jousting match."

Abraham's voice was rasping, perhaps due to lack of usage. "Very well."



"Whatever beast you can tame on this blasted land, whatever weapon you can salvage from this battle, those shall be your mount and spear. If a duel is what you wish, Mr. Buendía, your challenge has been accepted."

This is your chance to turn this game around. If you can find equipment to defeat Lincoln, you can use it against the rest of your foes as well. What you will do is set in stone. You will turn the tables, and soon bring an end to this entire charade.

How will you do it?