Today was not going well.

Hex glared at the pooling darkness ahead of her, cursing her innate sense of (mis)direction. She'd been... well, actually, she wasn't quite sure what she was doing here, and the pounding headache from bumping into one too many walls wasn't helping matters. The constant ringing from Aron's ceaseless assault on the walls of the tunnel was yet another distraction; the moronic mutt had taken a liking to one outcropping, and was now humping it like the fist of an angry god.

Ugh. Leave it to her to, out of a room completely full of different Pokemon, take the one with a hard on for rocks. Pokemon... god damn Pokemon. She didn't like any of the stupid things, all things considered; they were noisy, stupid, and impossible to keep track of whenever they got something in their brains. If it hadn't been for the fact she'd been so damn eager for adventure and romance that she had ignored the warning vibes, she wouldn't be here right now!

Stupid Pokemon. Nothing good about the little freaks. Except for Pidgeys. She'd always had a soft spot for Pidgeys. Dem little birds were just so cute, she wanted to hug and kiss and squeeze and cuddle and maim them all day long.

*THUMP*

Jolted out of the pleasant fantasy, Hex looked around wildly for a moment before realizing the source of the disturbance - Aron had managed to grind the outcropping into dust, and was now contentedly chewing on some of the remains. Glaring at the little fruit, she ground out a string of choice words in rapidfire order, before composing herself enough to actually speak.

"You're about as articulate as Johnny Cochrane, born an epileptic claustrophobic retard, in a small room with a strobe light."

Aron looked up brightly, paying no attention whatsoever to the actual content of her words. "GRRRRRMPH!"

And then the thankless little fruit charged in for a hug.

After you manage to extricate the Aron from atop your chest (making a mental note to put the thing on a diet), you start to hear a pathetic whimpering cry coming from the east, not far away. Do you choose to investigate or to ignore it and continue making your way through the passage?

Due to asphyxiation by ingestion of blue goo, Hex took her sweet time in responding to - or for that matter, noticing - the noise. A blue demon of unimaginable cruelty and malignancy had assaulted her, maliciously forcing itself down every available orifice in a frenzied assault on-

Brrrrble.

...Hold on a second. Since when did the ultimate evil burble?

Brrrrrble! Brrrrrrb brrrrrrble.

Yanking the Goo of Evil™ out of her mouth and face, Hex surveyed the perpetrator with a cynical eye.

It burbled.

It was also a nondescript puddle of goo, happily dripping out of her grip with a lopsided smile.

Hex, torn on whether to scream or hug it, brought it in for a closer look. Several minutes and much muffled screaming later, she once again dislodged the overly friendly Goo of Evil™ from her face. Having learned her lesson from the previous experiences, she kept it carefully at arm's length, then spoke to it.

"...Well, you look friendly. Who or what the fMMMMMMRPH!"

After another short struggle, the gooey monstrosity found its true calling as a hat. Unable to rip it out for fear of removing most of her hair in the process, Hex crossed her arms, gave an annoyed "Hmph," and stalked off in search of whatever the hell was making that damned noise. Aron, having managed to flip himself over in the process of making sweet, sweet love to another outcropping, rolled after her.

SUPAHHHHH HAT!

A very small Poochyena whimpers up at you, pinned by one of the collapsed outcroppings. Loudly. Powerful set of lungs that thing has, really. What do you do about it?

Cthulhu for President: Why Choose the Lesser Evil?

The lesser evil, indeed! Hex glared at the moaning puppy with a burning fury born of wrestling with her gooey hat for the last ten minutes, trying to decide how to handle it. The puppy was clearly hurt, which appealed to what was left of her maternal instincts and rationality. On the other hand, it was also loud: she had just finished dealing with Lolki the Terrible, who was now contentedly dripping down over her ears to imitate a helmet.

A helmet made of bluish goo, granted, but a helmet nonetheless. Obviously, that made Hex a certyfied, helmet-wearing retard... and like any good retard, deprived of sanity or reason, she did what seemed best at the moment.

"PUPPY PUNT!"

The punted puppy only starts whining louder, if that's even possible. Except that this time, it's kind of a whine mixed with a growl...has to be one of the most bizarre sounds you've ever heard in your life. Now that it has been jarred free from between a rock and a hard place (technically a rock,) it pounces on your leg and bites down. Hard.

...Well, on the bright side, at least it can't whine as long as its mouth is full.