A special note from Hairy Tater: In case you've never read a "pick your own adventure" story before, this is how it works: You start reading at the beginning, and then when you're given some options, you pick one and go to the number indicated. For example, if the text says: CK has the best samurai site on the web! Go to 37. Then, you go to the section numbered 37. Got it? Good!

1.
      Hey!
      Yeah, you! C'mere! I need your help!
      Why? Shut up, and I'll tell you.
      My name's Hairy Tater, and I need your assistance to destroy my archenemy, the evil samurai, Kibagami Genjuro.
      As you've probably guessed by now, I'm a hairy, talking potato. Don't look at me like that! Like I'm the first talking vegetable you've ever seen… Close that mouth; you're letting the flies in!
      Anyway, I wasn't always the bitter spud you see before you. Listen to my sad tale and keep a tissue handy, you'll need it (whether to cry or puke on, I'll leave up to you…):
      Not too long ago, in a land far, far away, there lived a beautiful princess. Wait! Back it up; that's not right! Okay, here's the real deal:
      I'm a potato. Potatoes only have one purpose in life: To be eaten by smelly, ungrateful humans like yourself. Now, it just so happens that I ended up in the potato bin at McDonalds (I know, lucky me). Anyway, I had reluctantly accepted my cruel fate, knowing that I was destined to be chopped into tiny pieces and placed into that great, deep fryer of doom. Everything was all set…and then HE showed up.
      Genjuro. What a worthless bum; I even hate to say his name. He's an ugly, ill-tempered, obnoxious, slimy, good-for-nothing, pansy-haired, thoughtless nobody. Oh yeah, he smells pretty bad too.
      Huh? What are you yapping about? What do you mean there weren't any McDonalds back in the 18th century when Genjuro lived? What the hell do you know? Were you there? Huh, were you? I didn't think so. I was; now shut up and listen!
      Humph!
      Now where was I? Oh yeah, Genjuro. My time had finally come. The head cook (who still only made minimum wage despite his loyal 25 years of service) had me in his greasy palms, ready to dice me, when I heard it. I'll never forget that, gravelly, rotten voice.
      "WHAT THE? I SAID NO ONIONS!!! AND THIS IS A SMALL MILKSHAKE!!! I WANTED A LARGE!!!"
      Out of the corner of my many "eyes" I saw him. The first thing I noticed was that ridiculous, bubble-gum pink ponytail of his. Genujro was out of control. He had his shining katana in one hand, and that merry old clown, Ronald McDonald himself, tightly clenched in the other.
      Ronald was shaking, promising Genjuro all sorts of free food to make up for the mistake. Did Genjuro listen or show pity? Nooooooooooo! Instead, he lopped off poor Ronald's head (rest his happy soul).
      The gaudy, decapitated, red and white skull flew through the air and struck the head cook squarely in the stomach. He stumbled backwards in surprise, dropping yours truly.
      I bounced, I tumbled, and then, I rolled underneath the dirty, dusty stove.
      Call it fate, call it chance, it doesn't matter. That single moment changed my entire life forever. I emerged on the other side of the oven covered with black soot, dust, hair, and a glazing of sticky, two-month-old ketchup.
      By this time, Genjuro had disappeared, along with all of our frightened customers. It was just the cook and I.
      He looked at me strangely for a moment, as if trying to decide what he was looking at, and then a wave of revulsion crossed his face.
      "Ewwwwww! That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen!" He cried in horror.
      Grimacing, he picked me up with a paper towel and threw me out into the dark alley.
      No!!! I screamed. It wasn't supposed to end like this! I was supposed to become an order of French fries! My entire life, gone! What good was a potato you couldn't eat?
      And then something wet touched me. It was a slobbering tongue, and it belonged to a dog.
      "Hey, Poppy! Get away from that! Ick! How many times have I told you not to eat garbage, girl?"
      The black and white pooch whined and returned to her master, tail between her legs. He was some dopey looking blond guy who looked like he was more than a little wet behind the ears, if you know what I mean. They pair wandered away, leaving me alone in the gloom with the garbage.
      I didn't know what to do. I felt suicidal. And then it came to me…anger and hatred. That Genjuro!!! It was his fault I was here! A dirty outcast! From that day forward, I swore my revenge against Kibagami…
      (Sob.)
      Pretty sad, huh?
      I always get misty eyed when I tell that story.
      But now, you see why I need your help. Genjuro has to die, and you're my only hope!
      What do you mean you won't help me?
      C'mon…
      Please?
      Pretty please?
      I promise I won't call you stupid anymore, stupid…
      You'll do it?
      Great! I knew I could count on you (even though you're a lousy bum)!
      Okay, here's the deal: We have to destroy Genjuro, but I don't know where he is (Genjuro's a lazy drifter, he couldn't keep a steady job if his life depended on it). He's somewhere, but where? And then, there's one other little problem: I'm a potato. How the hell am I going to take on a big samurai like Genjuro? I'm no coward, but I don't exactly have legs or arms to fight with either. I'm going to have to outwit him (which shouldn't be very hard; he's not terribly bright) or get a new, stronger body somehow…
      So, what should we do first?
      Ask around and see if anybody knows where that snake, Genjuro, is? Go to 9.
      Try to set a trap for that dumb Genjuro? Go to 15.
      Find a way to make me stronger? Go to 23.

2.
      It takes a little running, but we catch up to that scrawny blond guy and his flea-bitten mongrel.
      As it turns out, the guy's name is Galford, and he's actually pretty nice, but I don't like him anyway (I don't like anything or anyone, including you, so sue me! You'd be grouchy too if you had to go through life as a dirty potato!). Galford knows Genjuro; they've crossed paths before (He told us some boring story about people named Mizuki, Amakusa, and Zankuro, blah, blah, blah! I didn't listen to it, did you?) Anyway, it seems Genjuro has a fondness for 'women of the night'. Heh, heh, that perverted scumbag! We have him right where we want him now!
      It's off to the nearest whorehouse for us!
      If we find him there, what should we do?
      Set up an ambush while he's "busy" inside? Go to 31.
      Just barge in and try to take him by surprise? Go to 24.

3.
      You enter the house of ill repute.
      Immediately you're assailed by smoke and laughter.
      Where the hell is that Genjuro now? Did we lose him?
      No! There he is, over there! He's got his grimy hands on that girl's thigh!
      Let's go!
      The girl he was talking to doesn't like it, but we introduce ourselves.
      Genjuro scowls at us (man, is he disgusting looking, huh?).
      "What do you want?" He growls.
      Should we flash him some skin? Go to 7.
      Tell him we're in love with him? Go to 12.
      Play hard to get? Go to 6.

4.
      Where's your dignity? You aren't going to let Genjuro have his way with you for free are you? Come on, we may as well make some money out of this right? We'll split it 80/20; I get the 80%. Why? Cuz I'm the brains of this operation, that's why! Now get back to 12. and make Genjuro cough up some cash!

5.
      "A hundred bucks!!! For you? You gotta be kidding me!" Genjuro is not happy with your price.
      A trashy looking vixen comes up and rubs Genjuro's chest from behind.
      "I'm only $25, honey. And I guarantee I'm a lot better than her."
      Genjuro grins.
      "Looks like I've got a better offer, later toots! Come back when you're more reasonably priced!"
      Nuts. Looks like we're not going to get Genjuro now.
      Somebody pokes you in the back.
      Uh oh! It's the mistress of the house and her girls, and they don't look happy!
      "So, you think you can just walk in here and muscle in on my girl's turf, huh? We don't take kindly to that kind of thing, you hussy! Get her girls!"
      Bang!
      Smash!
      Ow! Ow! Ow!
      When you get out of that body cast, go back to 1. and start over again. Man, be more careful, ok? I really don't think I was cut for the mashed potato gig… What? I don't care if it was my idea in the first place! Why are you always trying to blame things on me? I'm just a hairy potato, geez! Give me a break! Blah, blah, blah, blah…