S.A.M.L.A.R.B Spectral Aquisitons of Material Lands And Resources Bureau

Start offloading your whole pathetic life story to the lava in the hopes it gets embarrassed in your company and skulks away

You're not having a good day. Not at all. No one seems to care. No one understands. Hey, this lava here is just sitting unloved and unwanted near a toilet. Maybe it will understand you? Maybe finally you have found a soul with which you can make a genuine connection, something to add some meaning to your life. You decide to offer the lava some information about yourself. Something to get it talking, get the ball rolling. An ice-breaker. It just absorbs the information silently. Hmm...perhaps it wants more? Perhaps it's interested? You tell it something else. It burbles vaugely in response. Oh your God, Sammy Boy, it's listening and it responded. It wants to know everything about you! You tell it more about your life. Well...that's not true. You tell it everything. Every happiness, every sadness, every failure, every betrayal. You realise that, in the telling, there is a lot more bad to outweigh the good but this doesn't matter to you. You have a friend, some one who listens and understands. Lava doesn't judge you or interrupt, it just sits there silently letting you unload onto it. Your silent friend, your good listener, your confidant, your soul mate. It listens to you entirely, absorbing every second of your tale. Your tale ends and you wait for it to respond.

You remain waiting for some time. Oh...oh Samuel. It's an inanimate pool of lava. You thought you'd made a friend with something in literally no way capable of feeling anything. You sad...sad man.

>Lava with an attitude problem? Well, you've got plenty of that to spare. Why don't you smack that lava right back with a bit of your own 'tude. Lay down some hardcore Jive freestyle, Sammy boy.

This lava...this bastard lava has made a damned fool out of you. You thought you'd made a friend, finally, a friend! But no, no indeed not. You had been tricked by the sheer gnawing non-sentience of this lava. It's non-sentient on purpose, you're sure of it! It decided to be non-sentient purely so it could sit there and mock you, sit there letting you jabber at it! Such an attitude on this lava pool! Well...two can play at THIS game Mr. Lava Pool, oh yes they can! No one can throw 'tude around like OL' ACTION SAM!

You cross your arms, glare at the lava and then prepare your most potent of 'tude manoeuvrers. You turn around and ignore it. Give it the reasonably chilly shoulder. Oh yes, that'll have put that lava back in it's place alright. Dick.

> Go further down the hellscape

Well, the loutish lava has been seen to, you should probably head deeper into the Hellscape. An odd sentence and not one you ever thought you'd be thinking. You start marching down the one road leading away from the elevator. The constant background sounds of screaming and shrieking grows louder and, you note, as you walk further through the hell-scape, it starts to gain a certain rhythm. Curiously it starts to follow your footsteps. You look down. The road at some point changed into a path made of stone screaming faces, each one screaming just that wee bit louder when you trod your inconsiderate foot into their rather considerate face. Oh you SWINE, Sammy Boy, these people are just trying to do their scream facey roady jobs and here you are stepping all over them as if they were put there for your stepping benefit. For shame, Sammy Boy, for shame.

The shame burns you, you cover your eyes and weep, running the rest of the way. You reach the end of the path and are informed as much by the sudden and stark sensation of your entire body slamming into a wooden wall. You fall to the ground, the action causing some rather muffled screams as you hit the faces bodily. Sudden curious pain located in your nether back regions. You leap to your feet again, rubbing your posterior. One of the faces seems to have taken the chance to bite your bottom. You feel weird about this. You look at what it is you barged into. Before you lies a large wooden fence and facade in the shape of a cartoon devil, horns and all. It's gigantic gaping mouth is the entrance to what seems to be a forest of tents. It is gated and barred. A sign sits over the horns of the devil-door. The sign reads “Circus Of Hell”, though that has been hastily crossed out with red paint and beneath it another, newer sign reads “Human Resources Department, undergoing renovations.” You turn to the side. In what is clearly a ticket booth with the word “Reception” scrawled hastily over what once said “Tickets” sits a decidedly male cartoon devil wearing a nurse's uniform from the fifties, little hat and all, alongside a curious choice of a pair of Groucho Marx glasses. You blink at it, it blinks at you. You open your mouth and it jams it's fist into it to shut you up. It then screams in the high-pitched voice of a middle-aged male hippy trying to sound like a female pig puppet. “TICKETS PL-NO WAIT THAT'S WRONG. DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT?!” Even after asking you, it doesn't take it's fist out of your mouth.

You are in Hell, apparently, standing in front of a re-purposed Evil Circus being used as the HR Department of the afterlife. You are speaking to an absurd receptionist. He has his fist in your mouth. What do you do?

Inventory:

Show Content

Spoiler
Shard of glass embedded in head.
Blood (Hands)
A sense of smug self-righteousness
Mango Cat Tape

Nightmare Chest:

Show Content

Spoiler An Office Complex in a sea of screaming faces and stars
The Concept of Eternity in an Office Job
Being Called Sammy Boy
Lady Blaze's Bloody Horrible Appearance
Small Fruit
Everything about your current situation
Germans who think they are funny.
Your own body pleading with you to save it as it is consumed by lava.
The Screaming Path that bit your arse.