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Welcome to Cornville, population: 75. You've recently arrived to escape your boring previous life and have a fresh start. The drive into town was filled with a full sight of a straight road due west and massive cornstalks north and south of the road. Entering the town, you find Main Street is flanked on either side by blocks of buildings up to two stories high, and everywhere you turn your head you see the tenets every small town needs: a bar here, high school there, police and fire station, post office, diner, etc.
You are amused by the nearly open roads and complete absence of traffic lights at the major intersections. Except for the occasional loitering teens and employee on break, you could swear there's no sign of human activity. Good, you thought, if this town had anything resembling normal I'd doubt I'd find what I'm looking for
Entering the motel, you get your room key and then head straight for the adjacent bar. You only see an old man, obviously blind. He appears to beckon his arm to you to come and sit.
> Hey old timer.
You cringe at the greeting as soon as it leaves your lips. In the back of your mind, you grow a little disappointed that despite your uprooted life you manage to still excel in starting awkward conversations.
The old man didn’t seem to mind however.
You a newcomer?
He asks, you nod. After a prolonged silence that indicated a pending response you blush and audibly say ‘yes’.
I reckon you aint her for da corn, am I right?
This time you make sure to give a verbal affirmation.
The old man chuckles.
You know that pop-yoo-layshan sign we got out there? Used ‘ta be that we dunt change the number for forty years. He whistled. ‘Magine that, forty years and not a peep o’ any zooha, not even from ‘da city!
Nowadays? I remeditate’n with old lady liquor, and whoa-ey, nuther zooha walkn w' th' denims on the pants! Wid' ya fancy com-pyoo-tur tellyphones and nipponesian cars. Town ain't da same no mer.
So what kinda zooha’re you anyway? Won’dem foobie doobies, or one of those follywobbles? Juju boy? Paddywaddy?
You pause and he waits earnestly. You open your mouth and respond
> I'm a foobie doobie
> I'm a follywobble
> I'm a juju boy
> I'm a paddywaddy
> Please, sir, I don't understand what you're saying
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>>1403521
> I'm a juju boy
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>>1403530
Half convinced that you understand the blind man's dialect, you respond
> I'm a juju boy
The man blinks. Heh, 'f you a juju boy ain't gon sense you much I reckon. Dunt get me wrong, aint no'thing harm a juju boy in this town 'cept maybe...a paddywaddy, 'f they can find y'all anyway. No, boy, I jest mean dat dem juju boys up in der asses in paintn' n' readin', seem real artsy folk 'till you find why 'dey paintn' n' readin'.
He suddenly upends his beer, completely draining the bottle in time you didn't think a man his age would achieve. Starting again, he tells you matter of factly The last juju boy I 'member went down the dirt road in 'da wilderness.
You take into consideration the information he's given. You wonder if you should pursue the path the old man laid out in clues or try your luck with getting the old man to tell you more about the town.
> Wallet: $10
> Tell me about the foobie doobies - $5 beer bribe
> Tell me about the follywobbles - $5 beer bribe
> Tell me about the paddywaddys - $5 beer bribe
> Leave the bar, go to the Wilderness Path
> Explore Town
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>>1403621
> Explore Town
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>>1403621
>> Explore Town
Lets go adventurin!!
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