And Shine Hell(sing) Now

1. You're walking down the street when you hear . . . a scream! What do you do?
Go investigate. Whatever's happening, you want the news first!
Keep walking, say nothing, do nothing, look expressionless.
Keep walking. Wouldn't want to mess up your hair, after all.
Keep walking. It has nothing to do with you.
Go check it out. Maybe you can help cause even more screams.
Go check it out. Maybe you can help whoever screamed.
Put your hand on your cell phone and approach cautiously, ready to dial 911.
Walk on, but allow yourself a small, knowing smile.
You're causing the screams. With nothing more than your sick and twisted appearance.

2. Whether by accident or on purpose, you end up walking in on the scene of the scream. It's a mugging in progress, but the mugger hasn't noticed you yet. What do you do now?
Find a place to hide and start making notes. You can use them to tell other people what to watch out for.
Stand there, say nothing, do nothing, look expressionless.
Challenge the mugger. Be condescending about it. You can take 'im.
Turn tail and run. Fast.
Watch, enthralled . . . if the mugger turns on you, pull out your gun and plug 'im.
Yell something out of an action movie and strike a karate pose. You actually CAN do karate, though! Really!
Call 911. Get the people who can actually help on the job.
Give the mugger that oh-so-sensual smile you're so good at, while looking unthreatening at the same time. Bam - you're in control of the situation.
Cause the mugger to start screaming. Because you just look that bizarre.

3. Well, that's over. Now you can get back on your way to . . . say, where were you going, anyway?
A small bar or nondescript back alley, where you're scheduled to get the inside scoop on a recent (and slightly gory) event.
Where you were told to go. Expressionlessly.
The mall. You wheedled some extra cash out of your parents (via pouts, pleads, and a minor tantrum).
The salon. You have a very important appointment regarding the upkeep of your ultra-suave ponytail.
Downtown, where you can be justified in shooting people because they shoot first.
Door to door, to pass out fliers for the upcoming (insert your favorite religion here) political rally.
Home. You've had enough of people for today.
Work. You're more or less in control there, though, so you never do any "work" that you don't enjoy.
Your secret underground cavern, in which you eat babies.

4. It's been a long day (or night, as the case may be), and you just got home when the phone rings. Uh-oh: it's the person who annoys you most . . .
...some do-gooder, probably Catholic, who wants to impress all of their views on you. Haven't they ever heard of freedom of choice?
...well, nobody annoys you that much, really. In fact, nobody compels any emotion from you at all.
....someone who's jealous of you and deals with it by harrassing you. Just because you're more handsome than they are, and you know it.
...your boyfriend/girlfriend. They're so pesky when they want to talk! You only keep them around for the sex.
..the police. They want to do another investigation. Like it's your fault you can't be bothered to check the safties on your guns all the time.
...your big sister. And she has the nerve to call YOU annoying! Where did she get THAT idea?
...someone who's jealous of you and deals with it by harrassing you. As if you can stop being smart.
...your 'boss'. Doesn't the silly little man realize that he has no REAL power over you?
...the family members of somebody you killed. Don't they even appreciate the artistic arrangement of the remains?

5. You get out of that conversation quickly, and hang up. Good! Now you can . . .
...watch TV. Specifically, the news. The daytime news only shows the tame stories.
...sit around doing nothing, saying nothing, until you fall asleep.
...get your beauty sleep. Can't charm the ladies with bags under your eyes.
...go out again! You gotta party! And show off how your nice new clothes flaunt your curves, of course.
...go out, get drunk, and wake up in jail with a bloody jacket and no memory of the night's events.
...get a good night's sleep. Got to get up bright and early tomorrow morning!
...finish that book you were reading.
...prowl the streets, looking for something that you can lure to its doom.
...get back to work on that new tattoo you're giving yourself.

6. Somehow you get enough sleep and wake up refreshed and relaxed on Sunday morning. Your plan of action for the day?
Get the week's shopping out of the way, read the newspaper, spread some pro-choice literature, go out looking for gossip.
Do whatever you're told. Expressionlessly.
Go out. Buy some ladies free drinks. See how many hearts you can break.
Go out. Flirt. See how many free drinks you can get. Pout if you don't get your way.
Roam the streats; beat some losers up. Hook up with your boyfriend/girlfriend for some quality time, in the sense that "time" means "sex."
Church, or the equivalent, in the morning. Then your theology class, then some political recruiting.
Read. Have some quiet meals by yourself. Read. Maybe write a bit. Read some more.
Lounge about. Go shopping and talk a salesperson into giving you an outfit at half price, because it just goes so well with your wonderfully sensual shoulders. Dinner at a classy restaurant.
Eat some nails, just to find out what they taste like. Burn down a house. Hide out in your underground cave afterwards.

7. Well, so much for a normal day. Somebody's dangling your loved one and a busload of kids over a cliff, and forcing you to pick which one they drop. What do you do?
Save your loved one. The kids would have done the same if they grew up and were in this situation.
Say nothing. Do nothing. Look expressionless.
Walk away. You can always get another loved one, and who cares about those brats?
Save your loved one. Who cares about those brats?
Shoot this "someone" person. Oh, wait, that made him drop both? Oops.
Save the kids. Your loved one will understand.
Stall for time while dialing 911 behind your back. You aren't equipped to deal with this on your own.
Pretend you have no idea how sultry that 'nervous' motion of your legs is, then walk up while being very distracting and entice this "someone" person to release both loved one and kids. Just because you can.
Laugh maniacally and walk away.

8. News of this incident reaches your mom, who immediately calls to make sure you're all right. What do you tell her?
"It doesn't matter; don't you ever watch the news?? Worse things than this are happening, and they require public attention NOW! So hop to it!"
Nothing. In fact, it's perfectly possible that you don't have a voice.
"Yes, aren't I cool? The press conference is tomorrow, and I'm getting a medal . . ."
"I need more money. I don't have anything to wear!"
"I need more money. I don't have anything to shoot with!"
"Oh, well, it was nothing really - any good person would have done the same. Not that I'm an exceptionally good person, I mean, I'm about average, but even so . . ."
"Any quick-thinking person would have done the same."
"I was completely in control of the situation the whole time."
"I burned off part of my tongue."

9. Jackpot! Mom sent you a package, and it's exactly what you wanted! It's . . .
...a state-of-the-art video camera. No more note-taking for you!
...nothing.
...a subscription to GQ. You always did empathize with those gorgeous models.
...makeup!
...a really big gun.
...toys. To share with the kids at the orphanage. Really!
...that bestseller you were planning to read, the one with the good plot AND the deep philosophical overtones.
...something really expensive that you convinced her you had a use for. Bah. It was a whim.
...a chainsaw.

10. Well, it's finally happened. You - yes, YOU! - have gotten Sir Integral Wingates Hellsing in a compromising position. Whatcha gonna do?
Nothing. You'll let somebody else do the dirty work - but hey, there's no shame in just watching . . .
Do nothing. Say nothing. Look expressionless.
Let someone else deal with her. You're off to challenge Alucard. You can take 'im!
Order your boyfriend/girlfriend to take care of her. You don't want to get your nice new jeans dirty.
Shoot her. Oh, the joy.
Mock her mercilessly. She always thought she was so great . . . well, who's laughing NOW?
Let her go. You're not really interested in getting on Alucard's bad side.
First take off the pin, then the scarf, then start on the jacket buttons . . . oh, Alucard? He's, shall we say, otherwise occupied . . . heh heh heh . . .
Something unspeakable, but it involves your very pointy head.