BLUFF NEEDING TO "CLEAN ROOM." == ≥

YOU: Uhhh... Geez dad they smell... Delicious.

( They smell like death )

YOU: But look, dad. I really need to... Clean my room! Yeah, man, my room is in dire need of some heavy-duty sanitation.  It is bad. It is a bad situation. 

Terrance: Yeah, I can't eat this either. I tried though. We love and appreciate your mother, but she cannot cook.

Oh. Good, you're a pretty awful liar. You knew you weren't going to be able to bluff.

Terrance: I actually do have work today too... Do you want to stay at the apartment, or do you wanna have me drive you up to Wren's house? 

Make your choice. 

That really wasn't a very hard decision to make. Wren's your best friend, and visiting her beats hanging around your little apartment any day. You're about to exit your front door when...

Terrance: Uh... Deen... You might wanna change before we leave.

Oh yeah, you're still in your pajamas. 

(okay, you change, quickly.) But now, you're actually ready to leave. You and your dad exit the apartment, walking down the three flights of stairs, and out into the almost abandoned parking lot.

It's an ordinary morning in Emerald Springs, at least from the looks of things. It's quiet, and the air is cool and damp. It's cloudy, and fog is rising, obscuring most of the town from your vision. You can hear some cars puttering around as well. You and your dad walk out toward his car, a beat up little thing, of indeterminate color. 

Terrance: If you want to ride shotgun, you'll have to move my trombone case into the back.

YOU: But... you don't even play trombone.

Terrance: Yeah. The case is empty.

YOU: ...

You put the case in the back, and sit down. Your dad starts the car, and you drive off. You look out the window, but you're not really looking inasmuch as you are spacing out. You suddenly start to feel yourself becoming very, very tired. You know that if you don't resist it, you'll fall asleep, but sleep suddenly feels so very tempting...

What do you do? 

AVOID FALLING ASLEEP VIA SINGING==>

The thought gives you pause... it sounds like it might work? But all the same, in a strange way, the thought doesn't feel like it's actually... yours? You shake off the weird feeling, and burst into a rendition of "The Battle-hymn of the Republic." You squeeze your eye's shut in concentration, and realize that the sounds you're making are horrible. Your voice is nasally, and singing only makes it more extreme. You stop, realizing that your dad probably thinks you've gone insane.

The Alien: No, please, don't stop on my account!

You open your eyes.

YOU: I am dreaming.

The Alien: Wowie, we have a smart one!

YOU: I do not understand... I really thought singing would help me stay awake.

The Alien: Ehhh, don't beat yourself up about it. Hey, it probably would have worked if this was a normal dream.

YOU: ?

You look down at your arms, which are restrained again.

The Alien: Just checking... you do remember our last little get together?

YOU: I remember seeing you earlier today...

The Alien: Oh, good. I was hoping you hadn't forgotten again. There seems to be something blocking me from directly influencing you like before... But at least our other project.

QUESTION THE ALIEN:

Options.

1. Ask why he's doing this

2. ask what he means about influencing you.

3. ask about "other project" 

lets rock!