(Nerds: As promised yesterday, here is my section of the latest Choose Your Own Blogventure. For best results, go back and start here on NPW’s blog, then follow the story wherever your capricious whims take you. Enjoy!)

“Hmm, I’m not so sure,” Xinni replied. You got anything else in that bag?”

Before Boone could reply, however, Aaron walked into the room and turned off the TV, much to Shelley’s dismay.

“What the hell are you doing?” Shelley shrieked. “I was watching that!”

“Yes, well, I’ll tell you how it ends later,” Aaron replied distractedly. “Listen, we need to talk.”

“About what? And what the hell are you doing in my apartment?” Confusion and annoyance fought for dominance in Shelley’s mind, although for a brief moment, they were both forgotten as she wondered how Aaron had lost so much hair in the time since she’d last seen him.

“Well, important stuff, but while we’re talking, I also just wanted to say that I’m a bit puzzled as to the whole sci-fi direction of CYOB. It’s a pretty broad genre description.”

“No it’s not! It’s very specific! Write something with aliens and spaceships! Why couldn’t you just continue with the story you were given?”

“I like to make things difficult. But listen, I don’t think sci-fi is that cut and dried. I mean, would you consider ‘Muppets from Space’ science fiction?”

A sudden suspicion crossed Shelley’s face as she regarded the gangly nerd who had appeared in her living room. “Wait a minute. What are you really asking me?”

“What do you mean? It’s a pretty simple…” Aaron’s eyes wandered to the bowl of popcorn sitting next to Shelley.

“Fine,” she said, correctly interpreting his intent. He threw himself down and began shoveling handfuls into his face, stray kernels tumbling down the front of his Obama 2012 t-shirt.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Shelley continued, accenting the last word with all the scorn she could muster (which, as it turns out, is quite a powerful amount), “I know what this is really about.”

“Mmph?”

“You want to know if zombies fall under the umbrella of science fiction.”

“Well, if one could theoretically come up with a scientifically sound explanation for their reanimation –”

“Ah-HAH!”

“What?”

“I can not believe, one, that you showed up at my apartment to ask me this, and two, that you are completely derailing a thread of the Choose Your Own Blogventure with this tangent. Also: Nice job working yourself into the story, you solipsistic freak.”

“Yeah, but I worked you in, too! You know, ’cause you were all pissed that I didn’t include a thinly veiled Shelley avatar in my zombie screenplay. Besides, the next person can kill my character off. Hint hint.”

“Okay, I think you’ve hit your word count, so…”

“Wait, but I have something important to tell you, remember? Shelley: I am Future Aaron. From the future. And I am here to deliver you a dire warning: You will be killed in the next ten minutes if you don’t come with me.”

“Nice job trying to get back on the sci-fi track, nerd.”

“You can ignore me if you want, but it’s your funeral.”

If you think Shelley should ignore Aaron and go back to watching TV, click here.

If you think Shelley should hear “Future Aaron” out, click here.