Mike put the rake aside and started towards the door. Or... he meant to, at least... didn't he? It was a big and scary world out there, and if there was a level system in this game, he was sitting pretty at zero right now. He couldn't just run out into the forest and hope he didn't get slaughtered by some low level goblin.
Mike glanced back at the rake and then towards the pile of dung Aaron had left. If he just stood here thinking about whether to leave, sooner or later the Innkeeper would turn up again, and he'd be mad as hell if he was caught lazing. No, he needed to take care of that dung pile right away before he got a tanning. Then he could think about how to leave.
Mike picked up the rake, went to the dung heap, and then spent the rest of the week mucking out the stalls, laying down hay, eating the meager scraps his master would feed him, sleeping short irregular hours, and somehow getting even filthier.
"So how did you like my campaign?"
Mike spun around in shock at the voice behind him. "Ty! You're here! Where's everyone else?"
"At the parade."
Mike scrunched up his u fortunate face, "Parade?"
"In their honor. They did defeat the black wizard Endrich."
"But that can't be right! I've only been gone for-"
"A week, Mike. You've been mucking out stables for an entire week."
"But... They never came for me..."
"Of course not. The town was cursed. If they went back, half of them would have ended up as live stock. Better to accept just one casualty." Ty shook his head, "Got to say, though, you have no idea how many work arounds there were for this problem. Like, your sacrifice play sped things up so badly I had to reshuffle my entire campaign!"
Despite how animatedly Ty delivered this news, Mike was strangely unenthusiastic about the whole affair. "So, I turned myself into a stable boy for nothing?"
Ty gave a "What can you do?" kind of a shrug and said, "Pretty much."
"Are... are they ever coming back for me?" Mike asked, tears in his eyes.
Ty shook his head. "No. According to the choices you made in this game, Mike the centaur spent the rest of eternity as a cursed stable boy, mucking out stalls for whoever wants him to until the last day of history."
Mike really did cry now.
"You know," Ty said coldly, "I'm half tempted to leave you here to experience that first hand."
Mike looked up again, "No! Please!"
"But I'll tell you what I'll do instead. I'll send you back home. Back to the real world, all back to your old self an everything. No catch, no twist, nothing at all except the brutal teasing of your friends..."
Mike's face lit up. He was free! He was finally free! He'd be big again! Big and strong! And he wouldn't have to muck out anymore stables ever again!
"But..." Ty continued, pointing at the outside door, "You have to walk through that door first."
Mike's heart sank right back down again. He'd tried to leave. He tried so many many times in the impossibly long seven days he had spent in the dung caked hell hole. But no matter how desperately he wanted to leave, he just couldn't do it. He was scared, or nervous, or maybe he was confused, or something, but no matter how badly he needed to leave, he just couldn't do it.
Ty, a sadist who delights in ruining people's lives, knew this altogether too well.
"Wow, you really like it here that much, eh?"
"No... No please, I'm begging you, please-"
"Hey it's alright, my man. I don't judge your dreams, I just make them come true."
"But I-"
"By all means!" Ty continued, steamrolling over whatever Mike was trying to say, "Enjoy the rest of your very long life."
There was a flash of light, a bolt of lightning, and then...
Ty was gone.
Ty was gone, and Mike's last hope of ever going home left with him.
Seeing no alternative, Mike grabbed his rake again and began to scoop up the dung once more, trying very hard to come to grips with the fact that he was doomed to do nothing at all but this for the rest of his life.