Ignore my better senses and order the Macho Man's Savage Slim Jim Crunch.

After pondering the ice cream menu for an inordinate amount of time, you finally decide to enter the shop. Upon entering you’re immediately greeted by a very bored-looking teenage boy, standing behind the counter wearing a leather shawl with the store’s logo crudely stitched onto it. “Hey, welcome to Stone-Cold Creamery. My name is Rob, how can I help you.” he says, somehow sounding more unenthused than he looks.

“Hi, I’d like to try a scoop of the Savage Slim Jim Crunch” you say, in spite of every instinct baked into your brain screaming at you not to. Rob perks up slightly, giving you a look as if you’re insane. “Uhh alright, one small Macho Man Savage Slim Jim Crunch coming up. Will that be all?” You nod. “Ookay, well that’ll be 5 gold…” You sense from the tone of Rob’s voice that this might have been a mistake, but there’s no backing down now.

You reach into your new money pouch and produce a fistful of gold coins, and it occurs to you that this is the first time you’ve seen Wrestlemanian currency. Each coin has Vince McMahon’s face on one side, and on the reverse is an image of a championship belt marked with the coin’s value. The coins appear to get larger the more they’re worth. You fish out a 5 gold piece and hand it to Bob. “That’ll be out in a couple minutes, feel free to take a seat I guess.” He says as he gestures towards a row of crude wooden tables before walking into a back room.

You take a seat at the closest table, and a couple minutes later Rob returns from the back with a small ice cream cone. “One Slim Jim Crunch” he says as he hands you the cone, then returns behind the service counter. The ice cream cone in your hands is… unique, to say the least. The ice cream itself is an unpleasant shade of reddish-beige, with stringy brown bits that you assume must be slim jim pieces poking out of it. The scoop of ice cream is topped with a coating of brown specks that you both hope and fear are chocolate cookie pieces. You’re not sure what broke in your brain to convince you to order this, but at this point your hunger is outweighing your own sense of self-preservation. “Welp, down the hatch” you think as you take a bite of the abomination in your hand.

To say this is the worst thing you’ve ever eaten may be a severe understatement. The flavor is as if someone mixed a tablespoon of salt into a chocolate protein shake and left it in the sun for a week. However, despite the near-indescribable horror occurring in your mouth, you somehow force yourself to swallow and take another bite, not wanting to waste your gold or the only food you’ve had in days. After what feels like hours and a greater mental struggle than even your hike up Mount Wrestlympus, you manage to finish the cone. Rob stares at you from behind the counter, mouth agape in awe and fear.

You’re sitting in an ice cream parlor in Loincloth. You have a rope diaper, 2495 gold, a pack of emergency supplies, and an immense feeling of regret.

Will you check out another store, make your way to the apothecary, or order another ice cream and hopefully not die trying to eat it?

> Reconsider my life choices as I make my way towards The People's Harvest.