The words underneath the heading are written in pencil. A heading at the top reads "PROBLEM SLEUTH FOREWORD", written in unerasable black ink. Smoothing it out with your right first, you see that someone has written on it. You unclench your left fist, wich causes the now crinkled CRUMPLED PAPER to fall to the desk. If you want to find a specific page in your own book, count them out one at a time going from there. Therefore, I'm making up my own page numbers that are cool and good. This book, at least the version I own, has no page numbers. You're ready to throw down some mad ESSAYS. You now clutch a SHARPENED PENCIL in your right fist. No problem! A task like this is easily achieved to everyone's satisfaction. It's a miracle the paper hasn't blown away. Returning your gaze to your desk you see a scrap of paper with some writing on it. You see a similar cliff, this one with lava shooting out in a beautiful arc about half-way down and ending in a glowing pool of molten rock far below. Looking over your right armrest means to look over the other side of the mountain top. What appears to be a giant hawk or a tiny pterosaur circles lazily just above the mist. Peering cautiously over your left armrest, you see that you're sitting at the top of a sheer cliff, one whose bottom is thankfully obscured by mist several kilometers below. Wind swirls around you, and the sky threatens a storm big enough to wipe all humanity from the face of the planet. The peak is barely enough to contain you, the chair you're sitting in, and the desk you're sitting in front of. ![]() ![]() You're on the top of a mountain, and it's unbelievably dramatic.
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