(message: You finally get close enough to the Walking Spike and try to grab him, or her, you don't know. You move around to a good position and get ready to pounce on the hapless little creature, who incidentally was minding its own business until you came along and scared it half to death.) (message: Very smartly, and slyly, I might add, the Spike trips you up.) (message: That little bugger.) (message: Having been tripped by the Spike, you fall face first onto its body.) (message: You are impaled on the Spike and start bleeding profusely.) (message: Your weight prevents the Spike from moving, too many dry frozen chocolate Moomoos on your part, so the Spike just sits there.) (message: My guess is it will wait 'till you either get eaten by some other animal or rot enough for it to free itself from your heavy leaky body.) (message: I don't think waiting is a problem for this guy.) (message: You however bleed slowly to your death, having many hallucinations before you eventually kick the bucket.) (message: One of them includes large robots and Lime Jello.) (message: The things you think of, Roger.) (message: You lose consciousness and die while in one of those fantastic halluctinations.) (message: At least you die semi-happy.) (message: I mean, how happy can you be, being dead and all.) (message: That'll teach you to try to put wild animals in captivity, even if the captivity in question is your pants.) (message: Actually that might be worse than a Zoo. I can't remember the last time you washed those pants.) (message: Or took a bath.) (message: Peeeuuuu.) (message: Stinky.) (message: Did you know you even have mold growing in there?) (message: Geez.)

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