Continue your tirade

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Undaunted by the change of environment, you continue to outline your improvised sonnet for all to hear. Unfortunatly the pathos of your speech seems to strike a particularly unpleasant chord with your cellmate, who sends you into a state of unconciousness from which you never return.

                          • You have died. Your score is 2 out of 600 giving you the rank of "Retarded Lout".
Status
Health 0 You have:

No life

MP 0
Level 1
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