“I think that we can handle this!,” you say to Cliff with as much confidence as you can muster up. Cliff grits his teeth together and glares at you. “Fine! Find something that we can use, and make it fast!” You take a moment to think, as Cliff grabs the press bar, heads back to the bleachers, and does his best to keep the bird occupied and trapped. “C'mon think,” you yell to yourself over the raucous around you, “what can I use to knock this thing out?”

A light-bulb snaps on in your head and you run back to the weight room. “Where are you going?,” Cliff yells in your direction, but you don't have time to answer. In a flurry of activity, you raid the aerobics room and weight room of any and all the mats and rollers you can carry, bringing them back to the gym, and stuffing them behind the crazed avian, effectively trapping it. “We still gotta knock this thing out!,” Cliff says, dodging the bird's large beak as it continues to try to skewer him. You head back to the weight room. There's gotta be something you can use.

You look around frantically for something, anything really, with enough power to put the bird down, when you realize that you'll have to get your MacGyver on. You pick up your curl bar, a couple elastic bands, and a 10 pound dumbbell to form yourself a makeshift hammer. Racing back to the bleachers, you observe that the bird has managed to draw some blood on Cliff's arms. “Make it snap at you,” you tell Cliff. “I've already had too much of that already! Why?,” Cliff replies, not taking his attention off the feathered fiend. “It's hammer time,” you respond with a slight grin. Cliff glances at you and says, “This better work.” Cliff taunts the bird to stick its head out as far as possible from under the bleachers, and you respond in kind with promptly thumping the bird on the head. The gym falls quiet.

“Lets...not...do that again,” Cliff says, out of breath, “at least until next weekend.” You smile. “I didn't kill it did I?,” you ask. “Nah, I can see it breathing,” responds Cliff. You breathe a sigh of relief, saying, “We did it. Now where are we gonna put it?” Cliff smiles and says, “I think it should be fine right here until morning, but someone needs to watch it, so I'll call Adam in here. I need to take a break.”

Shortly afterwards, Cliff pulls Adam off his rounds to monitor the bird for the remainder of the night, while Cliff takes over his route. Meanwhile, you make your way back to the parking lot, climb into your car, and head home. “In the future, I'll consider more carefully what I help out with on campus over the weekends,” you say to yourself, and snap on the radio.

THE END

(Congratulations, you've reached one of several different endings. Try the story again from the beginning!)