You enter the MortSystems(tm) Tofu-tronic Pleasure Center and are blown away.

    You've never seen so many gnasty tofu combinations in your life.  You never even imagined in your wildest tofu dreams these combinations.
 

        Nose crust - tofu - black banana balls!
 
        Fungus-infested tofu with grapenuts and sawdust chunks!
 
        Refried toe-nail tofu casserole!
 
        Under-refrigerator scuzz - tofu - back hair stew!
    Plus a buffet!

    "I may never leave this paradise," you say to yourself.

    You begin eating immediately.

    Several hours later you pause briefly.

    And then immediately begin eating again.

    Time passes, and you continue eating.

    With no signs of night or day in the Tofu-tronic Pleasure center, you lose track of time.

    With no body to limit you, your appetite is unbound.

    An indeterminantly long time later, as you continue to stuff your face, a voice is heard.

    <<Brad.  You.  Are.  Straining.  The.  System...  No.  One.  Ever.  Ate.  This.  Much.  During.  Testing...  We.  Are.  Experiencing.  Some.  Potentially.  Dangerous.  Outages...>>

    But you can't stop.  You're Brad, dammit.

    You continue to eat, hardly noticing that the Pleasure Center is getting wobbly and starting to flicker.

    <<Brad.  Please...  Slow.  Down...>>

    But your head is too far buried in a pile of tofu-raisin-carrot-seaweed-granola-raddish jello to even hear the scientist's voice.

    <<Brad...  B8raghd... bBrrrrrr78hf3had... St3op...  sy3estem 3jde332w oVrloooad!>>

    Blissfully unaware, you continue until your appetite overloads the entire system, terminally shorting your life support. 

You have died.

Your final score is:
5366

Start again.