Top Responses
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well, since the door is locked from the /inside/, I can just open the lock, can't I?
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Calm, slow breaths. No need to wake the beast.
Exit to balcony, hop to neighbor's balcony. Call police on cell.
Tigers are killing machines. No need to try to be a hero.
If it were a burglar I wouldn't mind spraying mace on him and hitting him upside the head to make sure he stays out, but it's too risky with a tiger. (What kind of creepy burglar would sleep in your bed?) -
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Tigers hate attacking from the front, so I just look at the tiger and don't give him my back. People actually reduced the number of tiger attacks in Asia by wearing masks on the back of the head because the tigers didn't want to attack if they thought they had been seen. That or try to kill the tiger before it wakes up by strangling it with a belt or rope, or stabbing it in the neck with something I can find.
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I wonder if someone asked me a "wich 2hu wud u" question while I was asleep.
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I'd throw a Pokeball at it! If it doesn't work, then I'd punch its face!
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It's not like it's going to 100% maul me to death the second it wakes up, if it crawled in there and fell asleep without mauling me up to this point then I'd say I have decent odds of slowly walking to the door without raising it's suspicion.
When outside I can ask what's with the tiger in my room all of a sudden? -
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Hello children, it's story time, are you sitting comfortably? Yes, then let us begin.
My eyelids feel heavy, a small pain throbs in the back of my head, I sigh. I blink my eyes open, and rub my dreary eyes. Focusing for a second, I can make out a blur beside me. Long, orange and striped.
"Ah, I see, it must be a tiger-skin bench, that makes sense". I slowly lower my aching legs and backside, and lay back on the strange, vibrating, tiger-skin bench. The rocking and vibrating isn't helping my apparent hangover, I begin to feel a slight nauseating feeling. I decide to work out a way to turn off the rocking and vibrations, so that I can rest on top of the orange cushioned bench and get a couple of hours more blessed sleep. I leap off the orange hulk of a bench onto the floor. I crouch and push a hand underneath the bench, looking for a switch.
I smile when I get a good grip of what feels vaguely like a lever, yanking it backwards. However, the lever moves back into place and none of the movement has stopped, if only having gotten worse. I pull the lever, forwards, backwards, side to side but it appears to be broken.
"Ah, well", I turn my back to the orange bench and turn to face the surrounding room which appears to be a cold prison cell. Harsh, grey concrete stone is everywhere. The only features if the room, other than the bench, appear to be a small sink and a large iron door embossed with a word I can't quite make out.
I shuffle my bare feet to the sink and twist the rusted red iron tap, a small trickle water is released which I cup in my hands. I release the cold water over my face, the sudden shock slapping me into focus and reality. I blink again, my eyes better focus. Regenerated, I turn on my heel. Tiger.
"Wait, what? How the fu-", the tiger growls, the fiery red eyes staring into mine, he takes a deep intake of breath. "Don't you interrupt my monologue, you furry bastard". The tiger frowns, then steps forward. I step backward. He takes another step forward. I punch him in the face. The tiger stumbles and then stands tall again, growling louder.
"Can't we talk about this, please? You know, like the men, or tigers, we are".
"Non, je ne parle pas anglais", the tiger says in a husky voice.
"Of course, the tigers French, everyone knows that, silly me". I reply sarcastically, backing away from the tiger. He growls again, roars, baring his white sharp daggers of fangs. "You look mad, bro? You mad?" He roars again, like a crack of lightning, louder. And I pee my pants a little bit. But then I realise, I am a man, and if this tiger will kill me, I'll face it like a man.
"Come at me!" I yell, the sound echoing around the small room, he roars in return and charges. I draw my magicsword, which I apparently couldn't use earlier in the story for mysterious reasons unknown. I close my eyes, and bring the sword down from above my head. A splash of warm blood lands on my skin, I drop the sword, a metallic clatter marking the death of my enemy.
I turn my back, and open the door. Stepping into a cool night crested with a pale moon and a silver patchwork of stars.
"Goodbye, my furry friend".
R.I.P. Irrelevant Tiger (2002-2012)
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