Time: August 21st, 2175
Location: Bohir Tals Nature Preserve, Henurc
We here at 10,000 Ways are proud to carry on the tradition of bringing you stories of strange and bizarre demises. And like the show of old we're based upon, we know that some of the best ones often involve those individuals with severely impaired judgment, especially drunks.
We really should be ashamed of ourselves but there's no denying the fascination or the perverse fun. We watch in amazement as they tank up and flush money, motor skills and reason down the toilet. Usually they pass out after a while and that's the end of it. But sometimes they'll find the Broadway star they never knew they had inside and let it loose on a captive audience. Gain enough courage to march down to the other end of the bar and have it out with that loser that's been looking at them funny all night. Or just fight a pathetic, losing battle with gravity. And then there are those whose antics reach a whole new level of stupid…
It's nighttime at the nature preserve on the planet Henurc. Tourists and vacationers have all either returned home or bunked down at the campgrounds after a day of taking in all the beauty and majesty of the local flora and fauna. All is peaceful and calm.
Listen… do you hear that? There! Off in the distance, three shapes moving up along a lit pathway, whooping and cackling - the distinct cries of one of the preserve's nocturnal residents.
Inebrius Retardicus.
They sometimes travel in packs and come in a variety of shapes and plumages. This particular pack of three consisted of a human, a quarian and a turian.
Park rangers.
They had quite the plum assignment, making their rounds on the graveyard shift. The place was dead after hours, no one ever started trouble and all the wildlife was safe behind kinetic containment fields a good safe distance from the campgrounds. So the boys, bored out of their skulls and hopped up on their poisons of choice, turn the preserve into their own private amusement park.
Having a quarian for a pal comes in handy when you need to disable the odd security camera or containment field and cover up an evening of mischief. On each drunken escapade, they would come up with increasingly ridiculous and dangerous games to prove their manly worth. Hegarm Bull Tag. Peg the Tsurna Wasp Nest. Cross Country Streaking Through Vonnet Snake Territory - our quarian tech whiz couldn't participate in this event for obvious reasons. But on this night their ringleader, the human Ron Corey, came up with a doozy; a real test of daring and reflexes. With a clinking of bottles and a roar to the heavens, the Three Sloshketeers staggered forth to the field of battle.
The Thoal Geyser Field attracts thousands of visitors from all over the galaxy. Water flowing deep underground is brought to a boil by magma-heated rocks. The trapped steam builds up so much pressure that it suddenly and violently blasts up through a fissure in the earth and out a surface vent in a hydrothermal explosion. They can be spectacularly large or inconsequentially small. The Thoal field boasts geysers of varying sizes and tourists can walk along a specially constructed, shielded walkway that allows them be in the midst of these natural fountains.
Ronnie and his pals circumvented the walkway and walked onto the geyser field towards the smallest spout of the group. About every half-minute the miniature geyser would spew a narrow jet of hot steam for about six seconds. The object of the new game was simple: see how long and how close you could hold your head over the spout before it erupted. The quarian went first but chickened out after three seconds. The turian lasted longer… about five seconds. Three drunken morons playing Chicken with an active geyser - what could possibly go wrong?
Ronnie was disgusted at his friends' total lack of cohunes. Now he was gonna show 'em how it was done. The instant the spout reset, he fell on his knees and put his face right up to the mouth of the geyser. But he misjudged the local gravity just a bit… and wound up getting his head stuck in the hole. Ronnie's panicked friends tried their best to pull and pry him loose, but time was running out.
They had no choice but to scamper clear and leave Ron Corey to confront one of nature's wonders… head on.
The steam escaping the geyser was in excess of over 200 degrees Fahrenheit and more than Ronnie's pores were opened. The skin around his head severely blistered and flaked, his eyes rendered blind. And the superheated water vapor seared and damaged his lungs, causing suffocation. Ronnie struggled, screamed, gasped… and finally expired.
This put an end to the night games at the preserve. People were denied the privilege of viewing the Thoal Geyser Field for the next few days as authorities closed it off to investigate Ronnie's death and charge his buddies with abuse of office and reckless endangerment. It's a much different world when you're sober. That's why it often pays to never touch a drop. Or if you must drink, to drink in moderation and always have a designated driver even if there's no driving to be done, if only to save you from yourself. And as much fun as we bystanders may have at their expense, we should also get involved and keep those who are stewed from having too much of a good time.
No matter how steamed they may get…
Way # 2114: Old Face-full