Written by Redfern on 10/11/2012. Posted Under: Choose Your Own Adventure, Psychosis.

Chippy-chip-huzzoh! Welcome to a most stimulating second part of the ‘Choose Your Own Adventure: Glorious Victorian Edition’ (for part 1, click here). There are three potential ‘happy endings’, so make sure to choose wisely. Or randomly, I don’t care.

21. We last left you as a prominent politician, philanthropist, and tramp murderer. You are the darling of Victoria’s Empire: young, vicious, and with a fine bristly moustache (made from the very finest of kittenskins). But horrors! You have remained a bachelor for much too long, and rumours are spreading that you are into tickling moustaches with other gents! You are in want of a wife.

a) Splendid! I want a wife as chaste as spring. Search the nunneries! (Go to part 23)

b) I want a wife who knows what she’s doing! Search the brothels! (Go to part 24)

c) Finding a lady is like choosing a basset hound. Place an advert in the local gazette, gather them in the grounds of your manor and see which are most efficient at harming members of your staff. (Go to part 25)



22. You grab the nearest woman’s wrist and drag her toward the altar. She screams and protests that she’s already married, but you aren’t listening to such hysterical nonsense. The marriage goes ahead, and your wife acquiesces once she hears of your enormous wealth. (Go to part 29)



23. What in blazes?! Nuns are Catholics, and Catholics are either Frenchman or Spaniards! You are no true Englishman, and thanks to the indiscretions of your once trusted manservant, everyone knows it. You are chased through the streets by none other than Queen Victoria herself, riding upon a pure white steed. You are trampled beneath its hooves, and the great Empress gives a royal wave to the crowds of adoring onlookers.

Thus ever for Catholics!




24. As is right and proper for your research, you scour the nation’s brothels, from Bawdy Pete’s Copulation Shed to William Gladstone’s Palace of Carnal Pleasures – where you converse with ladies numbering into the hundreds. Unfortunately your efforts secure you the syphilis contagion, and as yet no-one has invented mould – meaning no Louis Pasteur and no antibiotics. You keep up a charade of good health, collecting pieces of yourself which blacken and fall off and replacing them with body parts harvested from the paupers you keep locked in your cellar.

But your efforts have proven fruitful – you have found the prettiest courtesan in all the land, Lady Parress Hillton, and your upcoming nuptials are the talk of high society. (Go to part 27)



25. Your servants, maids, butlers and the shoe-shine boy lie upon the parlour floor with broken teeth and shattered ribcages. There is a faint stench of death and somewhere, the sound of mild sobbing. Your potential brides are standing tall, still clutching their gory scimitars and giving you hopeful – yet coy – glances. One in particular stands out – she is still busied tearing teeth from the mouth of the pastry chef, placing each bloodied stub into her dainty purse and humming softly to herself.

That’s the one for you! You propose on the spot. (Go to part 27)



26. You are making small talk with Dr. Darwin when a mob of angry Methodist villagers appear, furious at his invention of Science and Reason. As well as being a Heathen, Dr. Darwin is also very cunning, and removes his stick-on beard, pressing it onto your face instead. He makes his getaway in a steam-powered helicopter, leaving you to be torn to shreds by rural folk screaming Bible quotes.




27. Congratulations! Your wedding is attended by the most wicked of entrepreneurs and the most deformed of aristocrats. You have a proper Anglican priest to officiate, and the service itself is taking pace in Windsor Castle. But alack! Word comes that your bride has been chased into the Thames by a gang of London’s street urchins, and has been drown’d. And there’s no time to cancel the hors d’oeurves!

a) Just grab the nearest woman to hand! Nothing shall stop this wedding! (Go to part 22)

b) Give a solemn announcement that your fiancée has passed away and that the wedding is postponed. (Go to part 30)

c) Marry your best man – the Victorians need a bit of a social shake-up! (Go to part 31)



28. You embark upon your hike into the forest. Unfortunately you find yourself in Wales, where the heathenous population are still untouched by the word of Christianity. You attempt to grant them a spiritual education, but as they have never heard of Jesus they are still cannibals.

Your remains are made into laverbread.




29. You honeymoon in Buxton-Upon-Withypool, leaving your wife at home as her very presence gives you a headache. The town is picturesque and kept so by the council’s policies on ethnic cleansing. The sun is shining: washerwomen hang laundry, merchants peddle, and Masons congregate to plan the new world order. What shall you do?

a) I’m on holiday and the sun is shining – there’s only one course of action. Lock myself in an opium den! (Go to part 32)

b) Why waste such good weather? A vigorous hike will do me good. (Go to part 28)

c) Who is that man over there? He looks familiar! (Go to part 34)



30. You begin by giving a stoic speech on the nature of mortality and the perils of fate, but find your eyes being tickled with feelings. A single tear gathers and runs down your cheek.

Your assembled guests are horrified at the site of a man showing human emotions, and begin jeering. Your embarrassment only serves to bring on more tears, and before you know it you are standing at the altar, openly sobbing in front of a hostile crowd.

Knowing you shall never recover from this social shame you run to the very top of one of the castle’s turrets, throwing yourself off. In your final moments you see your fiancée arriving at the castle grounds, realising it was all a jape played by your bet man.

Her lovely dress is stained by your entrails.




31. The sight of two men marrying is too much for the Victorians to comprehend – every single man, woman and child in the western hemisphere collapses in a swoon, from which they cannot wake. The mills and charnel-houses fall silent. You find yourself alone in an abandoned civilisation.

Oh well, at least now the air is clean – and the entire world’s collection of preserved meats are yours! All yours!




32. Mmmmm, tasty, nutritious opium. Your troubles and cares melt away as you languish on a tasteful chaise loungue. You pass out for an indeterminate number of days.

When you awake you find yourself amongst a rag-tag group of bohemians, passing through on their way to establish a commune. Taking a fancy to their devil-may-care ways and rugged good looks, you decide to join them. The group travel to the Lake District in a wagon, where you establish a new community founded on principles of vegetarianism and free love, out of sight from mainstream society. Living without adequate sanitation or dental care isn’t perfect, but you have successfully escaped the perils of Victorian society.

Congratulations! You have become one of the world’s first hippies!


(Go to the end of the post)



33. Alas! Disaster! Your dance is quite feminine, and Jack the Ripper is more convinced than ever that you are in fact a prostitute! You must try another course of action! (Return to part 36).



34. Hail! It’s the fellow from the banknotes! You know… Charles. Charles thingy.

a) Charles Dickens. (Go to part 37)

b) Charles Darwin. (Go to part 39)

c) Charles Jack the Ripper. (Go to part 36)



35. You scream your hardest, causing Jack to drop his knife to the floor, dumbstruck. You have the most beautiful scream he has ever head! He instantly falls in love with you, and you climb into his murder carriage as his bride.

The two of you travel the world together, murdering prostitutes on every continent. You spend the rest of your days in perfect, utter contentment, knowing you have found your one true love.

Congratulations! You’re a serial killer’s wife!



(Go to the end of the post)



36. You wander over to give a hearty hello, but notice that you have spilt some beef gravy on your shirt collar! It would be an embarrassment to meet such a famous individual looking like a homeless Scotsman. You scour the local washing-lines, but unfortunately the only available clothing are a fine set of ladies’ blouses. You put one on, reasoning that is is better than nothing.

You go to make his acquaintance. But poor show! Due to your attire Jack the Ripper has mistaken you for a lady prostitute! He advances toward you, knife raised and a mad glint in his eye.

a) Scream! Scream for help! Oh, won’t somebody save a poor damsel? (Go to part 35)

b) Reveal your gender by performing a manly dance. (Go to part 33)

c) Aim a sturdy kick at his testicles. (Go to part 38)



37. Charles Dickens is a fictional character from the musical ‘Oliver Twist’. It cannot possibly be him. (Return to part 34).



38. Pow! Jack the Ripper’s testicles explode against your finely-shined boot, and he collapses in unimaginable pain, before going into shock and expiring at your feet. How exciting! You’ve actually killed Jack the Ripper! Whizzo!

You decide to take his lovely jacket and hat as a souvenir, placing them on your person and going for a walk into town. Unfortunately the local constabulary mistake you for the playful serial killer, and you are placed into Broadmoor prison, where you are served boiled rat and candied plums until the day of your execution.

You are not remembered.




39. It is! It’s Dr. Charles Darwin, renowned inventor of evolution and atheism! You are dizzy with anticipation at meeting such a great man. But how best to introduce yourself?

a) Simply say hello! He might be an eminent citizen, but he’s just a man, after all! (Go to part 26).

b) Actually, his beard is somewhat sinister. I think I’d rather talk to that nice Mr. Dickens. (Go to part 37).

c) Don’t say hello! God made Adam and Eve, not Koko and Chimp the Monkey! Spit in his face and walk away (Go to part 40).



40. Never trust a scientist! You go to church instead, and become so enamoured with the town that you decide to relocate. Nonsense letters keep arriving saying something about a wife, but you know they must be some sort of joke. You live out your days in peace and harmony, until you are conscripted into the Boer war. Your experiences of herding women and children into concentration camps gives you a taste for despotism, and upon your return to the United Kingdom you successfully launch a military coup, becoming Supreme Overlord of the Victorians.

Congratulations, you’re a bloodthirsty tyrant!


(Go to the end of the post)



Well done, you’ve managed to survive the Victorian period, and have a glamorous new life to boot! Play again to discover the alternative endings – or don’t and waste the day posting photos of your breakfast via Instagram instead. Whatever.

– Redfern