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OCTOBER SOMETHING, SOMETHING...

Today Captain announced as:

"REMEMBERANCES OF THE PAST DAY!"

The day begun with me getting smacked with a broken laptop and yells of: "YOU'VE GOT MAIL!"

I tried to protest that laptops weren't attacking people in the mornings back in the past. To this, Captain declared that in fact they didn't have to, because users were so addicted to reading their daily mail facts that every morning they woke up smacking their heads on their laptops.

I sat upright and noted that while I slept a filthy, blue sash that said "INTERNET EXPLORER 37.0" was strapped to me.

Immediately thereafter, my head was treated to a barrage of metal SPAM cans with a shout of: "SPAM MAIL! DODGE THE SPAM! USE FILTERS!"

Having commanded thus, Captain shoved two old tennis rackets at me. The tennis rackets had yellow duck-tape stickers on them with the words "DELETE" and "BLOCK EMAIL ADDRESS".

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The spam can attack didn't end there. Pilot's job for today was hiding in the hallways and on the staircases and behind building ruins, while throwing the spam cans at me at random intervals with yells of "INCREASE YOUR GENITAL SIZE!", "RUSSIAN BRIDE LOVES YOU!" and "I AM NIGERIAN PRINCE WITH 56 BELLION DOLLAR OFFER FOR U!".

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After the tiresome spam-dodging supersize, Captain demanded for me to go and fetch foods from "EBAY."

The old shopping mall where we found supplies yesterday now bore a massive spray painted sign "EBAY" on it.

I still have no idea how my companions created this masterpiece of utterly pointless vandalism.

Short of Captain holding Pilot upside down and Pilot spray-painting the letters I couldn't think of anything.

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Upon opening the mall's doors, I fell straight through the floor. Damn mold must have eaten through the old floor, I thought... but then I heard Captain's comments "INTERNET EXPLORER HAS CRASHED" and it became clear to me that the floor was somehow sabotaged.

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I decided to be much more careful from there on, knowing that there would probably be more traps that were meant to crash internet explorer.

"POPUPS!" Captain's voice bellowed from above, as cardboard boxes rained on me.

One of them with the words "XXX GIRLS" hit me square on the head.

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I woke with Pilot hovering over me, wearing a greenish, moldy sash with words "NETSCAPE NAVIGATOR".

"YOU WILL BE REPLACED!" Pilot's arms flailed back and forth in front of my face like a crazy dance.

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"BROWSER WAR!" Captain boomed from above. "Whoever can make it out of the sub-basement first, will not be shut down!"

I didn't like the sound of that.

"The role of Firefox browser will be played by... Photoshop, zee friendly puppy-caterpillar!" Captain's voice continued,

"The browser remaining in the sub-basement will face Firefox in battle and will likely be greatly slobbered upon!"

I saw the hideous, worm monster being slowly lowered into the hole, red stripes and flames were haphazardly painted on it.

The hungry beast emitted screeching noises that echoed throughout the building. At this rate, its friends would be coming soon.

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I reached for my rifle strap, finding nothing.

Great, they must have taken it while I slept.

Pilot stared at me from the corner, then at the worm monster with red stripes, and then made a jump for the door.

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I followed, picking up speed.

Pilot thew another SPAM can at me, and I barely dodged it.

Netscape, I mean Pilot.. was already halfway up the stairs.

Suddenly, a sack of SPAM cans was emptied from above, hundreds of cans coming down the stairs making a horrid rattling noise.

Pilot pulled two rackets that were tied to his back, slapping the cans out of the way.

I had no such defenses, as I left the rackets back in the first room, and thus the cans rained on my head, derailing my steps and slowing me down.

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"Firefox" screeched and crooned from behind, urging me to run faster. It sounded like a mad pigeon amplified through a megaphone.

Pilot jumped across several steps. I think he did serious gymnastics back in the army or something. Seriously, though... damn my office life.

Just as I reached the door, Pilot appeared in front of me, blocking the way to freedom.

A large black board connected with my mask as the metal door bearing it snapped shut right in front of me.

Colorful chalk scribbles on the board stated: [ACCESS DENIED] and below it was: [THIS ENTRY WAS CENSORED BY THE GOOD DIRECTORATE].

I desperately clawed against the board feeling surely doomed today, just like the internet users of the past when they were denied entry to a website by sinister government laws.