c. HAMMER TIME.

“I beg your pardon,” the ButlerBot says.

“HAMMER TIME!” you roar, and manifest your true identity of SuperFuturoidThor! With Hammer! And knock the ButlerBot’s head off. Which is mighty satisfying. Infiltrating the networks of those fools who would bring about a New World Order through alliances with the Lords of Heegurkurkur is tough, and requires significantly more patience than the ButlerBot displayed, but someone has to do it.

“Whoa.”

You turn, and find that a Lord of Heegurkurkur has manifested in the middle of the pillows, and is sinking into the mattress. It looks rather like rice pudding gone bad.

“This isn’t part of the plan.” The Lord oozes nervously, eyeing your hammer. “Have you seen my sacrificial breakfast around?”

“Parsley!”

“Aw, come on,” the Lord whines, “not again. I said no parsley. Er. That’s a big hammer you have there.”

You beam proudly.

“I’ll just be going,” and so saying, the Lord of Heegurkurkur demanifests.

Oh yeah, saving the world before breakfast is something you make look easy, ‘cause it is easy. Time for crocodile steak.

Congratulations. You avoided the parsley porridge.
You have winnar!
Game Over