Old-school CYOA gamebook-style story with a focus on being irreverent, snarky, and just gosh darn slippery when it comes to trying to keep it in one place. Let's have some fun!
You wake up in a box. You have no idea how you got in this box, but here you are. Actually, you barely even remember anything about yourself in general.
Looking around, you notice that the area is entirely barren, except for you and your box. The skies are a golden yellow, not like the golden yellow you might associate with gold or jewelry but more like the color of that mustard that you put on a hot dog and it kind of just comes out of the bottle with this really squishy sound that upon reflection bears a terrifying resemblance to flatulence, and then you wonder exactly why you decided to do that especially when you don't even like mustard. You suddenly realize that you have an irrational craving for mustard.
You get out of your box. Normal functional human legs, well, that's good. You assume it's good, anyways, since you assume that you're a human and not, let's say, a horribly disfigured ostrich. You try to say some human words but realize that you apparently are unable to vibrate your vocal cords. Well, that'll certainly be a problem later on, you think to yourself.
You notice that the box is made out of cardboard, and has an arrow pointing emphatically towards the ground with the words "THIS SIDE UP" written upside-down. You begin to feel a gnawing sense of discomfort with the absolute lack of eventfulness in your spatio-temporal neighborhood.