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“No.”
“We don’t have time for this! You don’t understand how dangerous that gryphon is! If you don’t shoot it, people will die. Real people, with families. Do you understand what that means?”
“I can’t do it, Stove.” You set the rifle down on the floor. “I’m against animal cruelty. I don’t know why you were transporting that gryphon, but it deserves to be free.”
Stove stops the truck.
“You’re a better man than I’ll ever be,” he says with a glimmer of admiration in his eyes. “I’ve been a coward this whole time. Thank you for showing me that.” He picks up the gun and puts the barrel in his mouth.
“Stove! No! You have so much to life for!”
“I hrve nrthing to lrve fr,” he tries to tell you with his mouth full of rifle.
“What? I don’t understand.”
“Nrvr mnd. Th wrd yr lrkng fr s ‘tour.’ Grbdbye.”
Then, blam. It’s over for Stove.
You step out of the ice cream truck and decide you’ll walk home. As you admire the weather, you think about all you’ve seen today. You watched two men end their lives, and in exchange a gryphon gained its freedom. Looking up into the morning sun, you see the majestic creature soaring over you. You’ve never seen anything like it.
In the distance, you hear the screams of the children as they realize there’s a man with an exploded head in the ice cream truck. You start to wish you were holding that rifle, because the gryphon still has the taste of your blood in its mouth and it’s circling in on you.
Your excursion ends here.
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