Continue your tirade

From Thread 1

Undaunted by the change of environment, you continue to outline your improvised sonnet for all to hear. Unfortunatly the pathos of your speech seems to strike a particularly unpleasant chord with your cellmate, who sends you into a state of unconciousness from which you never return.

• • • • • • • • • • • • • You have died. Your score is 2 out of 600 giving you the rank of "Retarded Lout".

Status
Health	0	You have: No life
MP	0
Level	1