The key

There is a man, and in this man is a banana, and in the banana is a duck, and this duck has seven toes.

Choose Your Own Adventure

You're on your lunch break, sitting under a great big maple tree on the outskirts of a public park in the City, re-reading a tattered old copy of The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood, by Howard Pyle. Not far away there is a little league baseball game in progress, and you are surprised by how little you mind the occasional shouting, jeering and cheering by the children and their enthusiastic, happy parents. Enormous clouds of brown dust roll over the grass toward you and you sneeze onto the page.

You close the book, marking the page with your finger right at the part where Robin is about to meet Will Scarlet, right over a beautiful woodcut illustration by the author himself of a happy man in a leotard emerging from the woods with a short sword held at Robin's chin. You look up through the branches and leaves of your tree, then close your eyes, listening to the wind through the leaves, the little league game, the trucks rumbling over the busy afternoon streets.

You can't understand why most of the people in the call center you work at choose to spend their lunch breaks in the noisy, ugly, bright break room, watching television and chattering about stuff. You spend all day long chattering to people on the phone. The last thing you want to do is spend your one free hour talking to people. That's why every day you get as far away from that building as you can. In fact, you are beginning to think that it would be better if you just never went back there at all.

In the distance you hear a siren wailing, but being that you live in a city you barely notice it. Just a mild annoyance that you hope will go away soon. Except it doesn't go away. It just gets louder. You frown, and open your eyes. You are shocked to see the ambulance rolling onto the grass. It seems to be heading directly to the baseball diamond.

That's strange, you think. You figure you would have noticed any kind of problem with the kids before an ambulance had a chance to show up. You peer through the dust, but as far as you can tell there is nothing out of the ordinary. The kids are still playing, the parents still coaching, coaxing and cheering. The only difference is that now there is a huge, noisy ambulance blaring in the grass next to the game.

As you watch, the back doors of the vehicle pop open and three EMTs spill out. While the first two run immediately to the pitchers mound, the third is standing still, in fact appears to be looking right at you. As you stand up, look at your watch, and realize that you are going to be late again you notice that he is gesturing vigorously for you to come to him.

If you go to the paramedic to see what the heck is going on, turn to page yorble.

If you sigh, figure it's none of your business and start to trudge back to work, turn to page hundo.

How To 1.2

How To Restrain Yourself From Eviscerating People Who Insult Your Master

Master is most forgiving, yes. And most wise. We need not know why he feels he must suffer the wretches to live. He would be very cross with us were we to succumb to our impulses, so we must learn to control ourselves.

In service of this, we advise the practice of several habits we have found useful.

Hunger Changes Many Thoughts

See how the jugular pulses beneath the glistening neck, how their glib tongues wag with tender delectability… how the muscle meat seems to steam itself beneath the flesh of the offenders. If we are starving-hungry, it only drives us into further frenzy, yes it does. We have found that our desire niggles less maddeningly when our bellies are full. Master often forgets to feed us, so hoarding bits from his victims BEFORE cremation is the best way to sate ourselves, to curb our bloodlust.

Gnaw On Your Tongue

Taste blood, feel pain. Let the ichor dribble from the scowling corners of the maw. It will manifest fantasies of evisceration to some degree. It will menace the offender. It will please Master.

Remember the Chamber

Keep an eye fixed on the near future. Tell yourselves, Master is trying to teach us patience. Hunger is the best cook. In all likelihood, the offenders will soon be released to our tender mercies.

How To 1.1

How To Rip Ass in Public Without Getting Arrested

Dude, these are dangerous freakin' times. Scary dangerous. Gut-stomping fascists roam the streets, enforcing some new crap-ass law that pops up every other day; people rat each other out for pats on the head; and the Great Eye is always watching, so you can't do nothing without getting in trouble. You can't even rip ass in public anymore without getting arrested.

Until now.

Listen. I got the scoop. You want to know how to rip ass in public without getting arrested? Follow my tried-and-true advice, and you, too, can steal a tiny bit of your freedom back from The Man.

Before we go any further, though, let's get one thing straight: there is only one really good way to rip ass. You need a full-blown, 25-alarm explosion. Bam! Force it out like Steamboat Willie! Chuck it like Charles in Charge! Criminalizing this activity is nothing less than an assault against Mother Nature in all her magnificence.

This being a universal zero-tolerance dystopia, you can forget about packing your cabeza with excuses. None of them are going to do you any good when the Ministry of Love gets wind of your deed and breaks out the batons. But if you keep these key factors in mind, you can keep your can out of the clink.

If a Tree Falls in the Forest...

Obviously, if no one hears you rip ass, you didn't. Sure, it would be nice if you could freely rip ass when nobody else was around. But these days, nobody's ever really alone, are they? No. There's always somebody – or something – watching and listening. You may recall the old nursery rhyme:

No more tears

From parents nor peers

The walls are mirrors

Eyes and ears

They'll see and hear

So far and near,

For years and years

And years and years...

So here's what I do, friend, if I'm walking down the street and I get the notion I'm about to blow my cork: I wait a few seconds until the next Acquisitions truck rushes down the street for a fresh load of Freethinkers. Just as it zooms by me, right when the sirens are at their loudest: Ba-DAM! Unless someone is staring right at my ass, watching for my speed suit to puff out like a quadruple amputee trying to escape from a steam tent, I'm all good.

Evasive Maneuvers

The above method won't work if you happen to be out on a Sunday. Oh, yes, you can rip ass on Quietude Day: The day of the week when the fascists are listening their hardest for the sounds we train ourselves all week long to hide – smooch sounds, laughing, cursing. Ripping ass. I'm telling you straight, dude. I do it all the time.

Remember: If you are nowhere near the epicenter of the ass-ripping by the time anyone's senses zero in, you have successfully ripped ass in public. In other words, rip ass on the move.

Letting one fly while suddenly changing direction is a one way to pull this off. As you approach a tight corner, make sure no one is following directly behind you. Wait until the exact moment when you reach the point when the avenues converge-then unleash, turn 90 degrees, and keep walking. Watch with silent glee as your fellow pedestrians are too traumatized to figure out exactly where the offending ba-doom came.

Other great opportunities to rip ass on the move:

When you are sliding down a brunch, lunch, or "dunch" pole.

When you are jumping into a chemical inoculation bath.

When you are being beaten anyway, in which case you'll want to try to time ass ripping to coincide with the officer's grunts.

Hiding in Plain Sight

Ripping ass on the move works well enough, but we spend most of our days indoors. Between Info-Condensing, Historical Erasure, and Ideological Indoctrination classes, you probably find yourself sitting around in public places a lot, surrounded by people who would sic the Torture Brigade on their own mamas for ripping ass.

What to do?

The sounds of blowing out your sinuses and ripping ass are very similar in depth, pitch, and volume. Carry a hanky around with you, and time your ass-ripping so that it coincides with honking out your nose. Be sure not to pull this maneuver if you are sitting very close to a colleague, because the vibration in the seat will give you away.

Accuse the Accuser

Any one of these strategies involves a certain amount of risk. But stay calm, Chilly Willy-if a fellow citizen suspects you of ripping ass, follow this script and watch them clam up:

Them: "Did you just rip ass?"

You: "No way, dude. That was you."

It's our word against theirs, right?

Congratulations. You've just enriched your life by eking out the tiniest sliver of daily freedom. May there come a day when those Party creeps get recalled back to whatever-the-hell dimension from which they were spawned. Until then, let her rip, soldier.