Marc wasn't nervous. Why couldn't I be like Marc? He knew
he'd pass the test-I didn't. I'd probably be one of the 76.3%
that DIDN'T pass the test (In the past 37 years- according to the
national standard put out by King Lorean. It's been that way
since he gained rule.) 76.3%. I am not a lucky person. Marc
says it won't take luck- just enough smarts to pass. It doesn't
matter to me whether or not he's right- I have neither luck nor
smarts. I'm going to die. It's just that simple. Oh, why did I
let myself sign up for this?
You'd think it'd be easy. I mean, all you have to do is eat
a meal. Sure, the meal is poisoned, but still. It's just food.
The trick is to find the antidote- it'll be in the meal somewhere,
but you've got to find it, or you've got a one-way ticket to the
afterlife. Marc's father did it, and he said he found the
antidote in a little ball of lint on the placemat. Wow- if that
had been me, I'd have been dead now. I refuse to eat lint. Well,
maybe if it was a life-or-death situation.
Wait, it is.
Crap.
And how do you know if you've found the antidote? The only
way to be sure is if you eat the your plate, placemat, silverware,
and table, along with all your food.
One day. That's all I have left. Then I have to take the
test. WHY DO I HAVE TO DO THIS??? It was that stupid Marc. He
talked me into it. He said that if I could do this, then it'd be
like my father had gotten a second chance. My father met his end
by the test. He didn't eat the gristle in his steak. Oh, and
it's Mom's fault, too. She refuses to work, and told me in an
offhand manner that she "didn't know what she would do in a year
or two when all of the money Dad left us was gone." (Hint, hint.)
I don't even understand why so many people take this test.
It seems pointless. You've got a 76.3% chance of dying, and even
if you do find the antidote, the poison'll keep you bedridden for
at least a week. And after that week? No one knows for sure.
All King Lorean will say is that it is a select group of
individuals who undergo training in war and politics, and after
just one year of training you are ready for a government job. By
this test, the weak, stupid, or all around unfit for the position
are weeded out, while the strong survive. And by the end of the
year about 50% of the trainees are gone. Gone where? Who knows.
It's like they disappear. But one year of training- how do they
fit in all the skills and tactics you must know into one year? Do
they even give you time to breathe?
he'd pass the test-I didn't. I'd probably be one of the 76.3%
that DIDN'T pass the test (In the past 37 years- according to the
national standard put out by King Lorean. It's been that way
since he gained rule.) 76.3%. I am not a lucky person. Marc
says it won't take luck- just enough smarts to pass. It doesn't
matter to me whether or not he's right- I have neither luck nor
smarts. I'm going to die. It's just that simple. Oh, why did I
let myself sign up for this?
You'd think it'd be easy. I mean, all you have to do is eat
a meal. Sure, the meal is poisoned, but still. It's just food.
The trick is to find the antidote- it'll be in the meal somewhere,
but you've got to find it, or you've got a one-way ticket to the
afterlife. Marc's father did it, and he said he found the
antidote in a little ball of lint on the placemat. Wow- if that
had been me, I'd have been dead now. I refuse to eat lint. Well,
maybe if it was a life-or-death situation.
Wait, it is.
Crap.
And how do you know if you've found the antidote? The only
way to be sure is if you eat the your plate, placemat, silverware,
and table, along with all your food.
One day. That's all I have left. Then I have to take the
test. WHY DO I HAVE TO DO THIS??? It was that stupid Marc. He
talked me into it. He said that if I could do this, then it'd be
like my father had gotten a second chance. My father met his end
by the test. He didn't eat the gristle in his steak. Oh, and
it's Mom's fault, too. She refuses to work, and told me in an
offhand manner that she "didn't know what she would do in a year
or two when all of the money Dad left us was gone." (Hint, hint.)
I don't even understand why so many people take this test.
It seems pointless. You've got a 76.3% chance of dying, and even
if you do find the antidote, the poison'll keep you bedridden for
at least a week. And after that week? No one knows for sure.
All King Lorean will say is that it is a select group of
individuals who undergo training in war and politics, and after
just one year of training you are ready for a government job. By
this test, the weak, stupid, or all around unfit for the position
are weeded out, while the strong survive. And by the end of the
year about 50% of the trainees are gone. Gone where? Who knows.
It's like they disappear. But one year of training- how do they
fit in all the skills and tactics you must know into one year? Do
they even give you time to breathe?