Merv puts hands palms-down.

    You put yours palms-up underneath his and bring them up until your palms touch ever-so-slightly.

    "Ready for this?" you ask him.

    "Go for it," says Merv.

    The duel begins.

    You wait before attempting a slap, just trying to psyche him out.

    Then when you deem the time is right, you move your hands just a little bit, but do not slap.

    Merv pulls away, and as he goes to put his hands back on yours, you suddenly swing your left hand over and slap his right.

    <<Whack>>

    "Good one," says Merv.

    You connected pretty solildy with his hand, but Merv failed to even flinch.

    "He must be trying to psyche me out," you decide.

    Next you attempt a cross-over slap, trying to hit his right with your right hand.

    Merv is quick, though, and pulls away.

    You sigh.

    "All right," you say.  "Your turn."

    The two of you switch so that your hands are on top, his on bottom.

    "Ready?" asks Merv.

    "Yeah, I think so," you say.

    Your palms come together, and the round begins.

    Merv stares intently down at your hands.

    You feel his left hand start to slightly caress the palm of your right hand.

    It sort of tingles nicely.

    But it is a ploy.  For, as you are paying attention to his left hand, Merv has let his right hand drop away from your left hand.

    Suddenly, he whips his right hand downward and then around in a giant circle, coming up behind his back, over his head, and finally crashing down with an incredible force on your unsuspecting right hand.

    <<SMASH!>>

    He knocks your right hand off!

    It hits the ground next to you, bounces, and lands underneath a bush.

    "Aaaaaaaaaaagh!" you shout in agony.

    "Oh, shit," says Merv.

    "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!" you continue shouting.

    "Hey, uh... sorry, man," says Merv.  "I, uh...  I didn't mean-- uh... hey, I'm totally disqualified, man...  You can take my place in line."

    You tuck your bleeding right wrist into your shirt, bend over and start looking through the bush.

    "Oh, here," says Merv.  "Let me give you a hand with that."

    He gets down on his hands and knees and gropes through the bush for your severed hand as you stand there and hyperventilate.

    "OK... here we are," says Merv.
 
    He lifts out your dirt-covered hand.

    "Ugh..." you say painfully.  "Agh, freezer."

    "Hunh?  Oh, right," says Merv.

    The two of you enter Sandy's house and head right for the kitchen.

    "Hello?!" shouts Sandy from the bedroom.

    Merv sticks your severed hand in the freezer.

    Sandy enters the kitchen and sees the wet trail of blood leading to you.

    She immediately starts screaming in terror.

    "Merv," you say.  "Call... agh... call..."

    "Ambulance?" says Merv.  "Paramedics?"

    "No..." you say.  "No... agh... insurance... call... ugh... Danny," you say.

    "OK," he says.  "Where's the phone?   ...Sandy, where's the phone?"

    Sandy just keeps screaming.

    "Sandy!" yells Merv.

    "Use... agh... mine..." you say to Merv.  "My... ugh... cell..."

    "Oh, right!" says Merv.

    He reaches into the back of your underwear, feels around, and pulls out your wallet, the keys to the van, a Zip-lock(tm) storage bag, a roll of quarters, two carrots, some crusty lettuce, something else completely unidentifiable, and finally, your cell-phone.

    "Agh... hurry," you gasp, feeling light-headed.

    At this point, Milton walks into the kitchen wearing one of Sandy's bathrobes, yawning and rubbing his sleepy eyes.

    When he opens his eyes and sees you, he immediately gets sick all over the kitchen floor.

    Finally Merv gets ahold of Danny.

    "Danny!" he shouts.  "Danny, it's Merv.  I need your help."

    "Hello?" says Danny.  "Hello?  Can no hear you.  Too much feedback."

    "Sandy, you have to shut up!" shouts Merv, while covering the phone with one hand.

    Sandy runs off screaming.

    "Danny, it's Merv, Brad's friend.  Are you there?"

    "Under sea... you and me..." sings Danny to himself happily.  "Hello?"

    "Danny, this is Merv.  I need your help!"

    "You need ride?" asks Danny.

    "No," says Merv frantically.  "No, I need you to get to Sandy's house fast!  Brad's lost a hand, and he's bleeding bad!"

    "Oh," says Danny.  "Kerosene."

    "Right, right," says Merv.  "So can you get here?  Fast?  Where are you?"

    "Barbados," says Danny.

    "Hunh?  Where's that?  That north of Boston?"

    At this point, you collapse on the floor.

    "Ah, shit," says Merv to Danny.  "Nevermind."

    Merv hangs up the phone and looks down at you, lying in a puddle of your own blood and Milton's puke.

    He breaks down and cries.
 
    ...

    Sandy goes through several months of psychotherapy following the traumatic scene she witnessed in her kitchen.

    Her life is finally getting back to normal.

    Then one day she opens the freezer and discovers your frozen severed hand, and completely loses it.
 

Your final score is:

720