Bertha was a seven-and-a-half foot grizzly bear who had supernatural abilities and wore a yellow-black polka dotted tutu. She woke up from hibernation and stretched to reach her clamoring alarm. 'Oh my! Today is Saturday? The sixteenth of June? I'm late for the first day at the dance recital in Manhattan!' Bertha held her temples in pure concentration. //Lisa, what time does the recital start? asked Bertha.// Bertha's temples trembled wildly. 'If you don't get here in thirty minutes your career will go down the tubes! She'll give your spot away to Martha the pink porky pig! Hurry up and get here now!' thought Lisa. "Do you think I'll make it on time?" asked Lisa. [[Ways of the Maze]] [[Bertha flung on her tutu]] [[Dance or Die! by Angela Loren Rolph.->References]] References Images: 1. grizzly bear.jpg. Retrieved from: unsplash.com/s/photos/bear 2. Image of city.jpg. Retrieved from: unsplash.com/s/photos-newyork-city 3. A sinister black spider. spider.jpg. Retrieved from: pexels.com/giant%black%20spider/ Sounds: 1. Sounds similiar to New York City. 43_Dome_City_Center.mp3. Retrieved from: tabletopaudio.com 2. Protein fields that are almost similiar to someting other worldy. proteinfields.mp3. Retrieved from: tabletopaudio.com 3. A sinister spider resembling Vanessa the spider. spidersden.242_spidersDen.mp3. Retrieved from: tabletopaudio.com [[References->Images]]Images <img src="Assets 2/ballet slippers".jpg> <img src="Assets 2/huge black spider".jpg> <img src="Assets 2/new york city".jpg> the passage is incomplete window.setup = window.setup | | {Sounds and Images/Sounds/Spider's Den.mp3 } ; setup.audio = document.createElement('audio'); setup.audio.src. = Sounds and Images/Sounds/'Sounds': setup.audio.loop = true; setup.audio.play(Sounds and Images/Sounds/Spider's Den.mp3); <Spider's Den.mp3> setup.audio.play(Sounds and Images/Sounds/Spider's Den.mp3); </Spider's Den.mp3> [[Sounds ->Images]]Bertha flung on her tutu and ran downstairs from her eclectic city apartment, where she'd been hibernating. She tried to dance to hail a taxi, but the driver just gave her a startled expression. She danced like an elephant trying to kill a mouse to a street corner where a man was selling hot dogs. He screamed and hid under the countertop; hotdogs were flung like red fireworks everywhere. //Sir, I'm not here to kill you! I must hail a tax, but I'm too menacing for the drivers to stop. Could you do it for me? shouted Bertha.// //You're a bear, and you can talk! How is that possible? yelled the stranger.// //I have supernatural gifts. You've never heard of the supernatural bears across this great country? They are the true heroes of America. Can you please give me a taxi? I'm in a hurry! said Bertha.// //I'll do it if you perform for my daughter's five-year-old birthday party tonight. Do you think you can do that? the stranger asked.// //[[Buy all my hotdogs, said the stranger.]]// New York City disappeared before her very eyes. Bertha arrived at a dead end and sat down and wept sorely. There was no way to get back home. She was lost to time and space forever until she died of starvation. She hung her head and lay on the ground to rock and cradle herself. She shrieked; her heart was in utter abandonment and pain. //How will I make it out of this alive? Bertha asked herself.// //[[What are these wicked ways of the maze? asked Bertha.]]// Bertha walked through the lush maze, and there was complete silence. She walked until she couldn’t remember the way she came from. She was lost. Bertha sat down and wept like a small child. /What’s that sound? asked Bertha./ She ducked because a giant pelican dove down from above. It flapped its huge feathers in her face. /I’m Luna. I’ve been stuck in this maze for ten years. Don’t think you’re the only one. The one we must defeat is Vanessa, the humongous spider. I’ve never been able to beat her. Two heads are better than one. Do you think we have what it takes? asked Luna.// //[[I’m ready to go home. I’ll do whatever it takes Luna, said Bertha.]]// Luna pulled out her writer's notebook from her ruffled feathers. She took the pen from behind her ear and tested the end with her tongue like a proper writer. She looks like she's going to A-plan the strategic moves of a lifetime or B-blow this story right out of the water. As she jots out the plan she wants them to use, it looks like her pen and her have melted together. They have become one, and the lightbulb is ignited above her head. //Bertha, I have the perfect plan. If we can get the spider to shoot its web in circles around itself, it will trap itself. Then, we can lull it to sleep. It will have to be the dance recital of a lifetime. It won't have a chance of escaping death's fury after this. "Are you with me? asked Luna.// //[[Two heads are better than one, said Bertha.]]// Luna showed Bertha her diabolical plans in her notebook. She showed her the pattern it should make to make the spider get caught in a corner with no escape. "I'd say you should dance to a rock song. One that will blow this disgusting spider out of the water. Do you have any rock turns that are your absolute favorite?” asked Luna. //[[I love Rock and Roll. I can mash it to ballet moves," said Bertha.]]// //I forgot to tell you, Bertha, whenever you left your body in New York City, you might have been given a duplicate one here. You should merge back with it when you get back home. It's probably running amuck without you. Without a good conscience, there is no telling what trouble it's getting into. It's probably lost as a goose in the Big Apple, said Luna.// Bertha smacked her forehead in utter disbelief. //How is this possible? So right now, we're spirits, you and me? asked Bertha.// //The best kind of spirits. This whole realm is a spirit dimension. The spider doesn't even have a physical body, but the rules of physics still work here. The same as they do on Earth, said Luna.// //How do we lure it to us? asked Bertha.// //We stay in plain sight. Let's start by redecorating this whole maze and burning it. I'll take flight and start the flame fest, said Luna. Luna took to the skies, and Bertha found a tree to stand by. Everything else went up in flames around her. After Luna came down, they watched as the maze burned like a beacon. It let a piercing scream as it died; its poison was no more. It took a little while to burn in a glorious flaming, red bonfire. Luna turned to Bertha. //Positions! Get ready! On my word! proclaimed Luna.// The two ran to opposite ends of where the maze used to stand, flailing their arms wildly. They screamed as loudly as two pairs of idiots chasing a tornado. A vast, seething black widow spider descended from the heavens on a shining, white thread. Bertha pulled a little speaker out of her pocket and put it on a blast. It played; I love Rock and Roll. It was their savior or their death sentence. Bertha began the ultimate dance. The spider shot its web in a fury and missed Bertha by a milestone. She started dancing in a circle, jumping, landing, and rocking their ears and the Earth. Each time she landed, the spider caught her vibrations and got sleepier and sleepier. Bertha jammed out so hard that the spider had a web all over itself and fell on its side. Its legs were trapped in the sticky web. Its body was limp and lifeless. Bertha signaled a roar to Luna. Luna burned the beast to ashes that blew away with the bitter wind. Their world was disintegrating around them as if they were in a video game, and they'd just beaten the level. //Bertha, can you meet me in Times Square at noon? asked Luna.// [[From this point on, it's Dance or Die, said Bertha.]] Bertha slammed her front paws onto an incoming taxicab in the street. It screeched to a burning halt. The grizzly bear taxicab driver lowered his window and screamed like a beast at her. Bertha's memory was sadly wiped from the spirit world, and she had no memory whatsoever of her friend Luna. [[I'm driving here. Are you getting in or what? I don't have all day! said the driver.]] Bertha opened the yellow polka-dotted door and slammed herself into the backseat. //Punch it, I'm late for the rehearsal of my life, said Bertha.// //I'm the only one punching around her, sweetie, said Paolo.// //Well, please hurry; I can't be late, said Bertha.// //Keep your socks on, sweet stuff, said Paolo.// //Where are you headed? asked Paolo.// //[[I want to go to 131 E Tenth Street in Manhattan to the New York Theatre Ballet.]]// //Touch you, sweetheart! You one of them fancy broads, aren't you? asked Paolo.// //I'm fancy-free and feeling fine! said Bertha.// //You got the last part right, baby, said Paolo.// //Excuse me, sir! I won't be spoken to in this manner. You have no right! Drop me off at the next stop. said Bertha.// //Not until you agree to go out with me. We have a long way to go in this construction zone, so what will it be? asked Paolo// //[[No, but if you get me there on time, I'll give you a generous tip.]]// The taxicab circled the next block, and Paolo put the cab in the park. He approached the passenger side and opened her door like a gentleman. Except for the fact that he most definitely is far from a gentleman. Bertha stepped out onto the curb and saw Paolo in all his glory. //Paolo, my, what big eyes you have, said Betha.// //The better to see you with, my sweet, said Paolo.// Bertha sat back down in the car, feeling light-headed. Paolo gave her a crumpled-up piece of paper with his name and number written in chicken scratch. His name was Paolo E. Procell, and the name was underlined. At the bottom, it said Hit me up on Facebook. Bertha looked up at the looming figure and grinned like a silly schoolgirl. //Does this mean you'll be mine? asked Paolo.// He growled and helped her out of the cab. //[[I'll take it under consideration. Now, please move out of my way. I have a whole scene to stir up like the queen I am.]]// Bertha walked down the bolstering sidewalk until she finally arrived at her destination. The ballet school burst at the seams with dancers. She walked through the revolving door and up the elevator to floor twelve like she was walking to the pivotal moment of her life's story. The elevator ride was full of ballet dancers with pink ribbons and black long-sleeved outfits. They reached floor number eleven when the elevator came to a shuddering halt. The elevator was pitch black. Young girls were crying like babies, and Bertha roared like a beast with one powerful blast. Complete silence reigned over the tiny elevator shaft. //How will we make it out of here, asked Cynthia.// //[[By our bootstraps girls, there's no other way and no one is coming to save us anytime soon, said Bertha.]]// Bertha slammed her paw around the tight-knit cable and dug her claws into it. Her arms and body were searing with pain. She spotted a number on the side of the wall: twelve. She swung and jumped, clinging to the bottom of the door frame. She pulled her massive frame painfully to push herself up. She received an incoming message. //Bertha, please help us. We're losing air supply, thought Lisa.// //[[I'm getting your help soon, Lisa. Don't worry, thought Bertha.]]//Bertha used her vibration to rattle the door loose from its hinges and busted into the foyer. Girls shrieked shrilly left and right. She ran to dance hall door number thirteen and busted it down. //We need help. Your dance troupe is stuck on floor number ten, and if we don't get to them soon, they might all die. Their air supply has been compromised, said Bertha.// Sylvia sprang into action like the gazelle she was. Bertha vibrated the elevator doors on floor number ten off their hinges. I'm calling the ambulance. The dance recital is canceled for now. We'll reschedule it in a few days. You'll compete with Lisa, the porky pig, for the top spot in my troupe. Can you please help me safely get all the girls to the ambulance?" asked Sylvia. //[[Anything for my girls, said Bertha.]]// Bertha stepped into the elevator to squealing girls. Some were cradling themselves on the floor in terror and pain. //Listen up, troupe. It's going to be okay. The ambulance is on its way, said Bertha.// //Bertha, I don't think I will be okay; I think my ankle is twisted. Can you please help me get to my feet? asked Gwendolyn.// //[[Put your arms around me and I'll help you up, said Bertha.]]//Bertha crouched slowly down and assisted Gwendolyn as best she could. Gwendolyn moaned and contorted her facial muscles as she helped her to her feet. //I’ll be okay, Bertha. Attend to the others and save me for last. Marilyn looks like she's going to vomit, and Stacy looks like she's having a panic attack. Can you please save me for last? asked Gwendolyn.// //[[Ms. Sylvia just texted me the ambulance is downstairs and, on their way, up, said Bertha.]]// //I'll be fine, Bertha, the fabulous grizzly bear. You truly are a hero. You could have been a courageous firefighter in another life. Can you please say something to the troupe to calm them down before the ambulance has to rally them up? asked Gwendolyn.// //[[I'll do my best, and God will do the rest, thought Bertha.]]// //Bertha, I'm glad you're here. Do you think we'll all be able to do the dance recital in a few days or so? asked Lucy.// //[[We should be just fine; there are no serious injuries. We must get checked out nonetheless, said Bertha.]]// Lucy smiled and breathed a huge sigh of relief. The ambulance stepped briskly off the elevator nearby. Paramedics swarmed different girls and put them on stretchers to take them to the ambulances. //Do you need a stretcher, miss? asked Jim, the paramedic.// //[[I'm going to be just fine, sir, thank you. Please make sure my girls get the best care possible, said Bertha.]]// A few days passed, and the girls had been released from the hospital. All of them checked out to be healthy and whole. When Bertha got the news, she growled in delight. //Bertha, the recital is tomorrow. Are you sure you're ready?// thought Sylvia. //[[I was born to take this chance by the horns, thought Bertha.]]// On Saturday evening, Bertha was at the recital hall strapping up her pink ballerina laces tightly. She stretched by the mirrors and bars and practiced some of her dance moves while listening to classical music by Beethoven. Sylvia walked in the door wearing her pink tutu. She raced over to Bertha and squeezed her as hard as she could. //No matter what happens today, Bertha, I know you'll do wonderfully. Are you nervous? asked Lisa.// [[A cat does get nervous in the middle of August in Louisiana on a hot tin roof,” said Bertha.]] //I suppose so, said Lisa.// She chuckled to herself and slapped Bertha on the back. //The competition is stiff, isn't it? asked Lisa.// //[[Yes, because the competition is me, said Bertha the ballerina.]]////I've fought hideous obstacles to get to this point. I'm not giving up now that I'm close to the finish line. I can smell the green grass waiting just on the other side, said Bertha.// Lisa gave her a hug that warmed up her insides and inspired a new confidence within her. //The troupe will be here any minute, and so will Ms. Sylvia, said Lisa.// //Are you ready to rock this popsicle stand, Bertha, the ballerina? asked Lisa.// //[[More than you'll ever know, said Bertha.]]// Lisa nodded her head swiftly in agreement. Sylvia texted that she and the girls were going to the recital hall. //Bertha, I'm so glad you're in my life. I can't imagine what my world would have been like if I had never met you. Can you imagine how different our lives would have been? asked Lisa.// //[[Not even different dimensions can keep us apart, Lisa. We're meant to be besties, you and I, said Bertha.]]// The girls gathered in the back curtain of the stage where they would smoke out their competition. Classical Chopin music started as the lights grew dimmer. They filed out one by one, all in a line. They held their poses as intense classical music drifted through the audience’s ears. Bertha was still backstage, waiting to go on last with Sylvia. //Who do you think will do the best? asked Sylvia.// //[[I hope we all do. We shouldn't look at it as a competition between ourselves, said Bertha, the ballerina.]]// Sylvia squeezed Bertha's hand as the troupe filed out from the other side of the stage. The curtain fell, and silence covered the audience. Sylvia danced out first to a classical modern number. She was light as a feather and graceful as a butterfly. She twirled with dignity and honor as her killer moves lit up the stage. She could dance circles around any ballerina. When she was done and took a leisurely bow, she looked toward Bertha. //You'll kill this girl; I know you will. Please don't get too deep in your head about it. Try not to think, and you'll be fine. Can you go out there and hold your breath through this whole number, thought Lisa.// //[[I was born for this moment, thought Bertha.]]// Bertha entered the stage with a rush vibrating in her head, and her ears were alive with the classical hip-hop music she would be shredding the stage to. Her fears had fallen by the wayside, and she was willing to do anything it took to make her dreams come true in these few moments of insanity. Her inhibitions were heightened, and she felt ready to take on the world. //Can I do this? I must put any doubt I have to the side, said Bertha.// [[God, please give me the strength I need to do this. I know I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, thought Bertha.]] Bertha danced like she was on fire. Her feet were light, and she had tremendous agility on the floor. The song switched tempos and blended into I Believe I Can Fly by R. Kelly. //I believe I can fly!// Bertha flew like she never had before. The audience was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. She was golden; the world had never seen anything like her. She had a unique quality that none of the other dancers did. She shone like a blinding beacon of light. The competition was nothing compared to her; they fell far in comparison. She landed on the stage with a leg split, and her hands were perched high in the air in glorious triumph. //[[The crowd is just staring at me, this isn't so good, thought Bertha.]]// The audience rose to their feet and cried out with grateful applause, filling Bertha's heart with overflowing gratitude. She fist-pumped the air as her troupe came down to the stage, hugged her furry neck, and shrieked loudly. Ms. Sylvia came down to the stage and stood in front of Bertha. //You've outdone everyone, even Martha, the pink Porky Pig. She stormed off and said she'd never compete again. How do you feel, Bertha the Ballerina? You won't let this go to your head, will you? You're the reigning champion and have the brightest career ahead of you. Here comes out trophy now, said Sylvia.// //[[I want to prepare for what lies ahead in my career, but first, I want to celebrate tonight with my troupe. I'm taking you all out to dinner tonight, my treat, said Bertha.]]// The girls rose to their feet, and Bertha did, too. The trophy was rolled down to them. It was a humongous, gleaming golden trophy with five ballerinas perched atop the top tier. It shone like a brand-new penny in the shimmering lights of the stage. //Bertha, I will sign you up for the best schools. You'll learn everything there is to know about this art. The world will never forget who you are, and you'll never forget this moment. Are you ready to start tomorrow for your next stages of training? asked Ms. Sylvia.// //[[I'm ready when you are, Ms. Sylvia, said Bertha, the ballerina.]]// The girls cheered and gave Bertha a humongous bear hug from every side. The audience cheered, and roses and flowers were thrown on the stage. Stuffed bears littered the stage. The competing dance troupe stormed out of the auditorium; their faces contorted in fury. //Bertha, this day will live on in infamy. I'll never forget this moment with you, said Lisa. What restaurant are we going to? asked Lisa.// //[[I've saved up to take us to Tuscany Steakhouse tonight. We can order anything on the menu; money is not an object, said Bertha.]]// They donned their best outfits the same night and traveled to Tuscany Steakhouse. They ate lobster and dipped it in so much butter sauce. They dined on oysters off the half-shell and baked oysters. They broke apart crab legs and dined on the delicious insides. The steaks were tender, and the white wine flowed in every direction. Ms. Sylvia laughed viciously all night long. Everyone got their fill and stretched back in their chairs with satisfaction. //Tonight, we celebrate a true victory. If Bertha weren't late to get to us in the first place, none of this would have been a victory. I treasure these moments with you girls. I hope the next troupe is as good as your girls. I'm proud of every one of you and what you've accomplished. May your lives never be the same, but let them be better. Bertha, can you toast to this occasion? asked Ms. Sylvia.// [[There is no occasion better to toast to, and no friends finer than these," said Bertha, the ballerina.]] The joyous group chimed their glasses together in unison. //What do you think of this little life? thought Lisa.// //[[This is my finest hour yet, said Bertha the ballerina.]]// \ Bertha the Ballerina was triumphant because from the beginning she set her eyes on success and refused to look away. She challenged herself and pushed herself along life's path. She didn't believe in the word no. She did not know how to give up. When she came back from the spirit world she rediscovered herself through her own actions she pursued along the way to success. Others believed in her because she believed in herself all along. They considered her a hero. //Does the player consider her a hero? asked the writer.// [[Yes]] [[NO]] [[End of Game]]Bertha jumped out of bed and brushed her unruly head of hair. She jumped in her polka-dotted tutu and made a beeline for the door. She dashed over to the street corner, and when she looked at the street, New York City was forsaken. There was nightmarish traffic from all sides. Instead, she saw a green, lush maze as far as the eye could see. She entered with trepidation. Noise didn't exist in this maze. She could only sense her thoughts. Bertha used them as her only accurate guide. 'This is impossible! What is this funky place, and how do I get out of it? I only have an hour, or my goose is cooked! Where will this maze take me?' [[From this point on, it's Dance or Die, said Bertha.]] End of Game Why has the player concluded this?What has influenced the player to conclude this? End of Game (bg:red)[(align:"=><=")+(box:"X=")[Final Dance to Dance or Die!]]