Page  79 

I stepped over and opened the door on the left. After I did so, I heard a strange female voice that resounded through my brain, "Congratulations Ben, you have chosen the 'D' door, for Death." I turned and ran from the door, but it was far too late the entire world around me turned into a violent whirlpool that sucked me through the door into everlasting death.

Unluckily, death was a metaphor for becoming a knife salesman. You spend the next 55 years trying to sell kitchen knives to aborigine's on the Western portion of Australia. After you retire, you live peacefully in a trailor home in New Mexico. Well, you never got to take over the world, but then again, you accumulated enough free knives to be called The Knife King of the West. Not bad.

THE END