Colin headed towards the pipe jutting from the wall. Two feet by two feet, it wasn't exactly the best passage way out of here. But seeing as how the pipe might be the fastest way out of this shit pit, Colin crawled inside and began moving down it.
"Ugh, smells like my dad's bathroom." the gamer groaned.
The pipe was dark, and something began sloshing around him. The pipe was connected to several clubs in a party district, where wasted bimbos were puking out their head sized margaritas by the dozen. The surge of barfed up food got faster as the flusing up above did.
"Are you alright?" Officer Hemendez asked.
"There's a bunch of puke getting flushed down! It's too much! It's -aaaauuuugh!"
Colin was pushed out by an overfill of vomit that flooded the chamber, his head cracking open on the wall. With no way out, the two started screaming as the gunk rose them to the top. It was too thick to swim through and the vomit had nowhere to go, leaving them overwhelmed by the acidic and fowl smelling puke.
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Colin screamed as the world around him decended into orange and green acidic liquid and distorted colors, red from his blood being one of them. It all went to black as he died with lungs full of other people's puke.
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Ending: Do Gamers Dream of Vomited Sheep? (Roll with it.)
Colin let out a gasp and bolted out of bed. He looked around, still in his pajamas. Everything was in order, not a bimbo or explosion, or Officer Hemendez. Colin went on facebook and google to look up "Bimbo Virus", sighing in relief as he got no results.
The stench was his ten year old pug's puke. He got up, cleaned it up, and quietly went upstairs. He could see that his family was all there; the whole ordeal was just a really fucked up dream.
As Colin went back to bed, he said "Note to self, never fap to bimbofication stuff on Deviantart after eating Spicy Nacho Doritos before bed ever again." With that, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.