You Wake Up In Some Guy's House

It sure is cold out! That must be because of the space behind you.









Foreboding words from ye olde Vebbin over here. You briefly contemplate not only the temporary nature of your own existence, but of existence itself, and how to be means there will be a time where you stop being. Why enjoy anything when enjoyment is, in of itself, changing nothing about your eventual non-existence? What's the reason for your consciousness even being plopped into this forum adventure, or seeing itself as more special than the collection of fast-moving chemical reactions that it actually is?

These feelings quickly subside because you realize you want to go to a fucking bar.





It's a brisk walk to the other side of Vebbin's horrible bad neightborhood.






Moisture levels: 100/100
Cup status: 0 occupied, 3 occupied (Stax and Stax and Stax)