Organ Failure

| Romantic | August 19, 2013

(My fiancé has just shown me a modified version of “The Oregon Trail.” It is called “The Organ Trail,” and is about escaping from a zombie apocalypse. Naturally, I name all the players after us and our friends.)

Me: “Oh no, we didn’t make it!”

Fiancé: “Really? How close were you?”

Me: “Pretty close. That sucked! I’m never playing again.”

Fiancé: “Oh come on; don’t be like that.”

Me: “It was awful! All our friends got infected, so I had to kill them. Then you got infected, so I had to shoot you, and then I broke my leg and died during the next turn!”

Fiancé: “Wait, you killed me because I got infected?”

Me: “Well yeah. I didn’t make much sense to be dragging a zombie along with me. I figured you’d snap at some point and eat me!”

Fiancé: “You don’t have to kill someone when they get infected! There is a cure at the end.”

Me: “Oh, God! Why didn’t you tell me?! Do you have any idea the emotional turmoil I faced after you were infected? I even waited three turns until I shot you. I can’t believe you didn’t tell me there was a cure!”

Fiancé: “I can’t believe you murdered all of us in cold blood! That’s it; if the zombie apocalypse really happens, you are not allowed to be in charge.”

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