Strong and passionate, I tend to be misunderstood, sometimes even feared. I don’t want to fight, I don’t want to cause trouble, all I ask is a little love, and a little peace. If I don’t get what I want, I get angry, and throw barrels and flaming oil at whatever’s stopping me.
I made all my roomies take the quiz. Tom was a Pac-Man Ghost, Ryan a Space Invader and Doug was Kung-Fu Master. Doug’s alternate was Gauntlet Adventurer… and when I said "Doug needs food badly!" he remembered his popcorn in the microwave downstairs. In a flurry we ran down to the kitchen, but already the acrid smell told us it was too late. Doug opened the microwave and I yelled at him to keep it closed; contain the smoke until we figured out what to do. Doug grabbed the scorched popcorn bag in a towel, I threw open the front door and we tossed the bag in the hallway, still smouldering.
We watched it through the peephole for a bit to make sure the popcorn didn’t start any bigger fires.
The apartment smells nasty and my eyes sting, but life is not as bad as it could have been without Gauntlet.
Welcome home, ya’ll!