A Continuing Story of Experimentalism

I know experimental pieces aren't really anything new, since in the end every author does write them, but it seems that no author ever bases his entire body of work on the idea that the answer to "What if?" could be literally anything. So, I present to you, in the vein of novels as of yet unfinished that I hope to make lots of beer money off of in the future, here's a prototype experimentalist piece. You can come up with any addition to this story that you want, doesn't need to involve the same characters or even the same subplot, so long as the transition is "relatively" smooth (by relative, I mean that you have to sort of keep it going, but once you've gotten the initial beginnings of the prior idea a short bit of due justice, you can move on to pretty much whatever your mind thinks up. So many random thoughts are dismissed as nonsensical. This is wrong. EVERYTHING, my friend, is material, and the answer to "What if?" should always be "Well, what would you like to happen?"

As I was walking to St. Malodorous, the city built on an inexplicable crag that stretches straight up thousands of feet in the air, I realized, firstly, that the road was straight up, and after a bit of a lousy endeavor at climbing, found myself quite painfully on the ground again. Stupid gravity. I wish it would go away.
Suddenly, for no apparent reason, a deus ex machina descended from the sky! It was a giant pterodactyl with a tail that looked kind of like a golf club. "Welcome, adventurer," it said, in standard epic-speak. "You seek to climb the crag of St. Malodorous?"
"No, I was just hurting myself for the fun of it. Oh, well. With a name like Malodorous, they probably have to wear a lot of deodorant anyway."
"Look, don't be sarcastic. I am here to help."
"Oh, super. Look, can't I just vanquish you or maybe smite you, y'know, take you out with a very intimidating action verb?"
"Look, you should know better than to mess with a talking pterodactyl. Besides, I have psychic powers."
"I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I really don't have time for you to make vague suggestions based on my relatives' names right now."
"Could you shut up for a second and let the important plot-advancing character SPEAK? Now, then. In order for you to go up the mighty crag, you must first perform 3 tasks. The first, is to change your name to Phil."
"Umm . . . okay, my name is Phil."
"Ooh, you're a clever one. Now, then. The second task is, you must get past me . . . hey, how'd you do that?"
"Well, you seemed to be so pre-occupied with your dialogue that I figured I'd just get the task done with so you'd shut up."
"Ooh . . . well, then. Your final task will be to go to the north! To the city of Random Plot Development!"
"And then, I suppose, I find an old man and give him a magical laxative so he can crap a key out for me to open some stupid door or something, right?"
"Oh, please, this isn't a videogame. You just have to go there, because from there you will find out what happens next."
"Isn't that always the case?"
"Look, I've had about enough of your attitude. I will now disappear in a very stealthy fashion," he said, dropping a smoke ball at my feet, which reached up to about my ankles, and beginning to fly upward.
"In all due fairness, I still see you," I called off to the fleeing pterodactyl.
"Well, pretend you DON'T!" the pterodactyl said, calling down the wrath of the heavens on my brow. And boy, are they wrathful. Knocked me clean out cold, what with the whole electrical bodily harm thing and all.
I woke up in what looked to be the scene of a clown's murder, all freaky colors, with a psycho midget in the corner brandishing a very powerful-looking fossilized dead fish.
"Go ahead, make your move," the midget dared, bristling as he grinned.
My move was out the door, out the door following that, and out another door into the open air. The surrounding area was a totally unfamiliar wasteland, and the only visible feature on the land was a sign saying "All persons wishing to cross the Desert of Extreme Length must first sign this waiver to nullify any responsibility on part of the Lengthy Desert-building Corporation." I ripped the first sheet off the set, signed it, and set off, wondering just why someone was following behind me writing down every word I said and thought. Hey, get away from me already! Oh, wait, that's the narrator. Never mind.