underground tunnel


You bring the presidential shovel inside and start digging through the floor in your bedroom. Unfortunately, you failed to take two things into account. First, the official presidential shovel of Brazil is made of solid 24 karat gold, and it just sort of squishes against the marble floor. Second, your bedroom is on the second floor. But aside from a few similar setbacks, you make quick progress, and a short fifty-seven months later you’re free!

But when you emerge onto the front lawn, you discover that in the past fifty-seven months, the world has turned into a scary and unrecognizable place. During your long absence, you were impeached on the grounds that you were living in a tunnel, and now the president of Brazil is some guy you’ve never heard of named “Tico.” Feeling defeated and disoriented, you return to the comfort and safety of your tunnel.

Tunnel-living isn’t for everyone, but over the years you have grown to love it. You dig yourself an extensive network of rooms and passageways, and that is where you spend the remainder of your days, defending your territory from rodents and a series of failed Brazilian presidents, only a few a dozen feet underneath the presidential compound that you once called home.


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