richard's entry - thought it was really good

Prompt  You are lost in the desert
Well somehow I’ve lost myself in the middle of the desert. The events that led me here aren’t worth explaining, but the timing is actually pretty good because I recently learned a few tricks about desert survival from a TV show. The sooner I accept that I’m going to be drinking my own urine, the better. I have one 365ml bottle of water and I chug it quickly because it’s my only receptacle. Then I start walking.

Plot twist  Everything goes to pot
I walk about 15 minutes and, having made considerable progress, I rest under the shade of a bush. It’s the only living organism I can see for miles. I look over a white-hot expanse of sand, out to where it meets the dark blue sky. As I turn my head my hair gets caught in the bush’s leaves. The leaves are sticky and fragrant and their resin is all over my clothes. I decide to smoke the bush. I don’t have any rolling papers so I cut it into a heap, set it on fire, and then stick my head into the smoke stream and inhale as deeply as I can.

Twist  A dog comes sniffing around
I sit there in the sun and I have no idea how much time has passed. After a while a speck appears on the horizon and as it approaches I realize it’s a dog. I remember the story of how Bob Odenkirk was filming in the desert, rescued a dog and ended up adopting it. It’s a nice story but Bob had a film crew on hand to keep him safe. I’m lost in a desert, so I know I’m going to have to eat that dog and possibly drink its urine. I call to it kindly and it slowly scampers over, looking ashamed. I see it has a penis so I call him a good boy and give him a scratch behind his ear. I have no idea how to kill a dog so I need to earn his trust first, so I can kill him at my leisure. I need to give him a treat. I don’t want to waste any of my food so I peel a big ol’ scab off my knee and feed it to him. He sits down beside me while I begin to sharpen a stick.
Twist  you are given an ultimatum
The rhythm of the sharpening makes me drowsy and I fall into a reverie. This is Navajo territory so I’m sure that bush I smoked was powerfully hallucinogenic. I stand up and notice that this whole time I was sitting on a trap door. I lift it up and to my surprise it leads into the cockpit of a plane. I climb down and try not to pay attention to George and Vincent van Gogh, who are making out in the copilot’s chair. There is another trap door in the cockpit and I open it. It goes straight to hell. The phone in the cockpit rings and I pick it up.
“Please hold”
I wait.
After 2-3 minutes a voice comes on the line.
“Richard, I’m pretty disappointed.”
“God?”
“Yes it’s me, God. You know, if you had just killed the dog outright that would have been fine. But befriending it first? Making it trust you? That was just low.”
I say nothing.
“Richard, I want you to look down into those flames and think very carefully about your actions. I think you know what's the right thing to do.”
The line goes dead but his meaning is clear. I can let the dog live, starve in the desert and go straight to heaven; or I can eat that dog, live a little longer on Earth but spend an eternity in hell.
I suddenly come to. The sun is falling below the horizon and the dog is sleeping beside me. My stomach growls. I pick up the sharpened stick.