This is Not a Test
"All right, Inquisitor!" you growl as you kick in his office door. "What nefarious scheme are you plotting now?"
The Inquisitor, sitting at his desk surrounded by stacks of encyclopedias, looks very surprised. "Batfellow! I-I'm not plotting anything, honest!"
"A likely story!"
"No, really! I made parole, I've gone straight. I'm just working on a new trivia game. Here, look!" He hands you a small white card. The question on it is "Who was awarded the title 'Goldsmith by special appointment to the Imperial Crown' in 1885?"
"That's Carl Fabergé, who made the famous Fabergé Eggs," you growl. "And there's a collection of them on display at Gotpork Museum next month!"
"What? No, that's just a coincidence!" the Inquisitor protests. "Here, try this one instead." He hands you another card: "What chemical compound was first synthesized in the late 1940s by William T. Miller following his involvement in the Manhattan Project?"
"Methoxyflurane," you growl, "and that's an inhaled anesthetic -- sleeping gas! You're planning to knock the guards out with gas!"
"No no no! I swear!"
| Fight him |
"All right," you growl, "Let's see another one, then." You grab another card from the desk. "In liters, how much fuel is required to fly a helicopter from Gotpork to Bolivia?"
"Dammit dammit dammit!" The Inquisitor says. "Fine! You got me! But you won't take me without a fight!"
| Fight! |
The Inquisitor  -- (edit metadata)
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| Maybe not |
"I'm incredibly busy tonight," you growl, "so I'll take you at your word -- for now. But I'll be back to check up on you later, and I'd better not discover any monkey business."
"The 1952 Howard Hawks comedy, or the 1931 Marx Broth--"
"Shut up!"
Occurs at Trivial Pursuits, LLC.
