THE AMERICAN
CANON OF THE
CHOOSE-YOUR-OWN-
ADVENTURE,
VOLUME II.
BY CHRIS McCOY AND MATTHEW COLLISON
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Read
Volume I.
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A Selection From
the Abandoned John Updike
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
The Outskirts of Somewhere, c. 1962
You were in bed with Anna. It was summer and the chiffon curtains that shrouded the large open bay window in the bedroom of your Massachusetts home were blowing in the breeze. Anna, with heavy eyelids and a pallid face, was watching the curtains. She was a small, solid woman with round breasts and large, powerful thighs. The light movements of silk made her tired. You sat up, back against the mahogany headboard, surreptitiously reading a financial magazine. You, too, were watching the chiffon curtains.
You put the magazine down, ran your hands roughly through her hair, a rake through autumn leaves, only softer, a distant moon.
"Well, we should probably talk about this, shouldn't we?" you finally said.
"There's nothing to talk about."
"I cheated. I'm a cheater. An adulterer. If that's not something to talk about I don't know what is."
"You're probably thinking about her right now."
"That's ridiculous, Anna. Ridiculous."
Did you:
a. Continue thinking about the other woman, whom, regardless of what you just said, you are thinking about right now?
b. Get up and call Pop and tell him that you'll be over with the kid on Sunday after all?
c. Make love to Anna while reminiscing about your glorious high-school baseball career that never went anywhere, then drive over to the other woman's house and make love to her while reminiscing about your glorious high-school baseball career that never went anywhere?
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A Selection
From the Recently
Discovered Flannery O'Connor
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
The Clarkston Man, c. 1954
It was nearly dark when you limped onto the path in front of the old house behind the grain store. The blind boy with white eyes sat on the porch, peeling paint off the banister.
You rubbed the place on your arm where your hand used to be and ascended the stairs.
It had been a long ride from Clarkston.
"Samuel Lynch," you finally said.
"Yes, sir," the blind boy chirped, sitting up in his rocker.
"Go fetch your father."
"He's no longer with us, sir. Mama says he's traveling, but I know what he done with that shotgun."
Did you:
a. Steal the blind boy's walking stick?
b. Make a terse, profound statement about the blindness of all people and how Samuel is lucky to be aware of his blindness?
c. Marry the whimpering fat girl who lives with her mother in the dilapidated rancher across town?
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A Selection
From the Recently
Unearthed F. Scott Fitzgerald
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
A Dim and Decorous Mirth, c. 1923
You were standing on the promenade overlooking the manicured grounds of the university, your mind still slowly piecing together the events of the previous night's coup de grâce. In the garden below, you saw the blithesome Maude speaking with the tow-headed, serious Stan Gaffney.
"We're the goddamned proletariat!" you heard Gaffney yell.
You took a drink of your Scotch and thought about how the scene would fit into the picture frame of your autumn.
The doctor would be coming in an hour.
Did you:
a. Fill the Jewish boy's pockets with dough from the kitchen?
b. Read Pushkin in the original Russian?
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A Selection
From the Accidentally
Injected William S. Burroughs
Choose-Your-Own-Adventure
Flesh Mouth, c. 1956
BALTIMORE: Your hurt was malarial red ... Planes buzzing and your ass filled with pomade ... Skin hanging off the sick Arab's shoulders ... You were in the middle of a field of gray flowers thinking of Lazarus on the beach in Tangier ...
COCO: Wound-fucked the sperm whale at the carny peepshow.
Did you:
a. Grind the emerald in the mattress of the enema sunshine?
b. Mourn the lizard in the pus of the tubercular zebra?
c. Get high?
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OTHER McSWEENEY'S FEATURES:
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The American Canon of the Choose-Your-Own-Adventure, Volume II By Chris McCoy and Matthew Collison
A Meditation on Salami By Michael Ian Black
Angela, You're a Disgrace to the Bloodsluts Empire By Mark Walters
Animal Stripper Routines for Any Occasion By Yasmine Abbasakoor
Genesis, the Rollout By Cathy McNally