The Game
I'm just using this space as a dumping ground for Mugs' Escape Game. Done in the style of mspaintadventures.com, it has the trappings of an old adventure game, but held at the whims of Mugs' fevered imagination. All commands were submitted by those on the email list, and what followed was pure insanity. This thing's been going on since December, and is REALLY FUCKING LONG. But, I'm putting it here because it's entertaining, and perhaps people are interested. Also, so I could format it and save it somewhere.
Inspired by the mspaintadventures website, which in turn seems derived from those old text puzzle games.
Basically, I was going to just describe sequences of events based on the commands that people e-mail me, picking randomly from the commands I have at a cutoff time. If you're not interested, let me know and I'll take you off the list. Here's the first entry, and cutoff type for commands is going to be 10 AM EST tomorrow.
You wake up in a dim, dank cell, somewhere underground. You see some dirty rushes, what appears to be a heel of very stale bread, and an overflowing chamber pot. Someone has scrawled some graffiti on the south wall. To the east is the cell door, made of impervious-looking metal. You hear a mouse squeak.
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Okay, so I lied about a couple things.
First lie: I'm not updating at 10AM tomorrow (necessarily). I'm updating now, because the commands were too much fun when I thought about them. I'm still going to try to do them at intervals, more or less, so as not to have this turn into continuous spam and also because I'd get fired if I did, but may update at more frequent intervals if I get a fair-sized spate of commands. I'm thinking that the next update will be tomorrow at 12PM EST if I get enough commands from you guys.
Second lie: I'm going to actually just execute all the commands in (I may drop duplicative commands), because the commands are a little too much fun. If there's a real conflict in commands, like if one command would preclude another, I might adjust the timing of the commands. If there's still a conflict, then I'll roll between the conflicting commands.
Anyway, here's the update:
You wake up in a dim, dank cell, somewhere underground. You see some dirty rushes, what appears to be a heel of very stale bread, and an overflowing chamber pot. Someone has scrawled some graffiti on the south wall. To the east is the cell door, made of impervious-looking metal. You hear a mouse squeak.
>read GRAFFITI
You read the GRAFFITI on the SOUTH WALL.
At eye level, the graffiti reads in jagged script: "THERE IS NO ESCAPE!!!"
Below that, in scrawling letters, it reads: "Especially not through this wall."
Below that, in bright yellow block letters, it reads: "THIS WALL IS NOT A FLOTATION DEVICE."
As you finish reading, you hear a loud peal of thunder, which makes you wonder if you did something wrong. You suddenly feel vulnerable, and also a bit chilly. Is there a draft in here?
>examine GRAFFITI
You peer closely at the GRAFFITI. You feel a slight draft in your face. It appears that the mortar may have eaten away along some of the stones.
As you lean forward to take a closer look, a small piece of paper drifts into the cell from the SOUTH WALL. It must have been lodged in one of the cracks between the stones. It drifts to your feet. It appears to be a NOTICE of some sort.
>ride overflowing CHAMBER POT like a mechanical bull
You eagerly mount the overflowing CHAMBER POT, and attempt to ride it like a mechanical bull. The CHAMBER POT is unfortunately too heavy and weighed down with EXCREMENT to afford a very good ride.
When you're done, the CHAMBER POT is overflowing a bit less, and you look like you've pooped yourself.
>search for SCREWDRIVER
You dig around in the CHAMBER POT to find the SCREWDRIVER you hid in there. Except there isn't one. Funny, you could have sworn that you ate a SCREWDRIVER a few days ago and pooped it out into the CHAMBER POT for safe-keeping.
Now it looks like you've pooped yourself AND ran out of toilet paper.
>go DENNIS
You can't go DENNIS from here. You try anyway, really hard, right into a wall. You're pretty sure that DENNIS isn't even a cardinal direction, but you try again anyway, just in case. You now look like a man who has pooped himself, unsuccessfully tried to wipe himself with his hand, and is now repeatedly running into a wall. Congratulations.
Your futile attempts to travel in a nonexistent direction has dislodged an object from the RUSHES. It appears to be a long JIMBERJAM.
>escape from CELL
That's it. You've had enough. In a moment of clarity, you realize that this confinement is driving you not-so-slowly insane. You must get out!
You fling yourself against the IMPERVIOUS DOOR in a frenzied attempt at escape. Unfortunately, the IMPERVIOUS DOOR is impervious. It takes you several minutes to figure this out.
You finally give up and collapse to the ground. Your head feels a little soft and disconcertingly wobbly. Something moist and squishy falls out of your left ear.
An ominous rumble comes from the CHAMBER POT.
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An ominous rumble comes from the CHAMBER POT.
>kick the MOUSE
You begin to suspect that the MICE are mocking you. Those dirty rats! You'll show them! You lie in wait, planning to punt the next MOUSE you see into another text adventure.
After a few moments, a MOUSE comes scurrying out of a SUSPICIOUSLY DIM PATCH in the WEST WALL. You take careful aim, and try to kick it as hard as you can. Unfortunately, the CELL is too dim to see properly, and too dank for you to keep your footing. You miss the MOUSE completely and fall on your back.
You feel foolish.
You hear a MOUSE squeak nearby. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
>read NOTICE then teleport out of CELL
The NOTICE simply reads: "NOTICE." There's nothing else written on it.
You form a pretend-telephone with your (relatively) clean hand and say: "Beam me up, Scotty!" Nothing happens. You try again, saying: "Beam me up, Scotty!" in a louder and more demanding voice. You're not entirely sure who Scotty is, but he appears to be ignoring you.
The IMPERVIOUS DOOR suddenly opens, revealing two MEN in DULL WHITE ARMOR and a HAIRY BIPEDAL BEAST. One of the men appears a little short to be wearing the DULL WHITE ARMOR. He begins to say: "We're here to rescue you-" but then notices your appearance.
"Sorry, wrong cell," he says. The MEN and the BEAST leave abruptly, shutting the IMPERVIOUS DOOR behind them. From outside the door, you can hear one of the MEN say: "That was just disgusting." The other MAN replies: "Some people just have no class." The BEAST roars in a guttural yet strangely judgmental way.
>read NOTICE then throw CHAMBER POT at SOUTH WALL
No, really. There's nothing else on that NOTICE. All it says is: "NOTICE." Unconvinced, you turn the NOTICE upside down and examine it. Now it says: "NOTICE," except upside down. You're not certain what the NOTICE is trying to notify you of.
You attempt to lift up the CHAMBER POT to hurl it at the SOUTH WALL, but it is immensely heavy. As much as you strain, you succeed only in budging it a tiny bit. What the hell is in this thing?
Actually, you have some idea. You know that it does contain EXCREMENT, but does not contain a SCREWDRIVER. But you still have no idea why it's so heavy. The CHAMBER POT rumbles yet more ominously.
>put mouth of CHAMBER POT against SOUTH WALL
You give up trying to lift the immense thing, and instead try to tilt the CHAMBER POT forward so that its mouth is facing the SOUTH WALL. You lean against it, summoning all the strength you can muster. The veins bulge out in your head and neck. You think you may pass out.
With a chalkboard-scraping peal, the CHAMBER POT suddenly tips forward, dumping you over and onto some of the EXCREMENT spilling out. When you pick yourself up, you look like a tar baby, except with less tar and more not-tar.
The amount of EXCREMENT streaming out of the CHAMBER POT does not appear to be diminishing. Peculiar. If anything, it appears to be increasing. The ominous rumbling intensifies. Nearby, you hear a mouse snigger.
>use EXCREMENT to cover up the "NO"s and the "NOT"s in the GRAFFITI and wait expectantly
Although somewhat tired of frolicking in the waste matter that is now starting to pool on the floor of the CELL, you decide that it doesn't even matter any more at this point. You daub your hands in the flowing EXCREMENT and gather a generous dollop of it. Hey, this is kind of fun! Almost like making mud pies.
You smear the EXCREMENT over each of the "NO"s and the "NOT"s. The first line now reads: "THERE IS ESCAPE!!!" The second line reads: "Especially through this wall." The third line still reads: "THIS WALL IS NOT A FLOTATION DEVICE." For some reason, the EXCREMENT appears to just magically slide off the third line of GRAFFITI. Now that you think of it, the EXCREMENT appears unable to stick to the NOTICE as well.
Brilliant idea! You wait expectantly, convinced that by playing enough with feces, you can warp reality and alter your surroundings. Nothing happens.
You wait a little more.
The IMPERVIOUS DOOR opens up again. This time, there's a stunningly attractive TOMB RAIDER CHICK at the door, wielding twin BERETTAS. "Oh my God," she says, and immediately shuts the IMPERVIOUS DOOR, leaving you alone in the CELL once more.
The ominous rumbling reaches a fevered pitch.
>dive for COVER
You don't see any COVER here.
The bizarrely literal interpretation of your words only compounds the panic you look at what is now a torrent of EXCREMENT rushing out of the CHAMBER POT. For lack of any better options, you hide underneath the RUSHES, which, being RUSHES, will probably not offer much protection should anything go wrong. Still, you cower in your RUSH cocoon and tightly shut your eyes anyway.
The CHAMBER POT shudders, then heaves to one side. A deafening cracking sound echoes across the room. You are pelted by bits of rock. Thinking that the worst is over, you look up, only to be smacked atop an already wobbly head by a large SLAB OF SOUTH WALL.
You hear several MICE snigger nearby.
Dazed, you look around you. There is a large OPENING in the SOUTH WALL where the GRAFFITI used to be. Through the opening, you can see empty sky. You appear to be high up. The EXCREMENT has formed a WATERFALL flowing out of the OPENING, but is still somehow gathering inside the CELL. It is now knee-deep. You feel the beginnings of a current.
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The EXCREMENT is now hip-deep. A SLAB OF SOUTH WALL floats by you. There is GRAFFITI on it.
>find whatever fell out of LEFT EAR before it is swept away by EXCREMENT
You overcome your panic for just long enough to snag the MOIST SQUISHY OBJECT as it floats past. THE MOIST SQUISHY OBJECT is moist and squishy, and has an oddly unnerving shade of gray to it. It also has the texture of a largish wad of highly elastic snot. You're not certain of what it is, exactly, but you think that it may be an exotic piece of EARWAX. All in all, you're not sure why you picked this thing up.
Shrugging, you deposit the EARWAX in your pocket.
You suddenly think to yourself: "What's this NOTICE about? How come all it says is NOTICE?" You're not sure where the idea came from, but you start suspecting that the NOTICE may be magical in some way.
>use SLAB OF SOUTH WALL as a FLOTATION DEVICE
The current is growing stronger by the moment. You're not sure you can maintain your grip on the broken piece of wall for much longer. You feel certain that you will soon be swept away.
In a desperate bid for safety, you leap onto the SLAB OF SOUTH WALL as it floats past you. Your immediate thought, after you land on the SLAB, is that there probably could have been safer places for you to flee to. You can't think of any obvious options offhand, but you feel that there are probably at least a few safer places to be in life than on top of a broken piece of crumbly wall as it goes careening over the edge of a FECAL WATERFALL. You grip tightly onto the SLAB and hold on for dear life.
The SLAB shoots out into the empty sky, then begins lazily drifting to the ground like a falling leaf. Hey! It's working! You consider getting up to ride the SLAB like a surfboard, but you chicken out and clutch it tightly instead. You sort of resemble a hydrophobic fat kid on a paddleboard.
>examine SLAB OF SOUTH WALL and GRAFFITI
You probably should have done that before you staked your whole life on it. Oh well, better late than never.
The SLAB OF SOUTH WALL is made of a hard, heavy, gray stone. You think to yourself that no reasonable laws of physics would permit this SLAB to float like this, as you drift over the massive FECAL WATERFALL that is still spewing out of the CHAMBER POT in the CELL. The SLAB appears to be from the lower section of the SOUTH WALL, containing most of the third line of GRAFFITI. It currently reads: "NOT A FLOTATION DEVICE."
Something flies out of your pocket and into your face. It is the NOTICE. Stupid NOTICE. You stuff it back into your pocket.
The SLAB abruptly seems to recall that it is made of rather heavy stone, and begins plummeting to the ground below. Yay physic!
The ground gets rapidly closer. You see the telltale glint of brand new parking lot directly below you.
>do a SWAN DIVE into the ASPHALT
You soon realize that you're still clutching the SLAB. Although you realize that you'll probably die either way, you feel as though you might stand a slightly better chance if all you have to worry about is accelerating at terminal velocity into a planet-sized object compared to, say, accelerating at terminal velocity into a planet-sized object AND having a big chunk of rock accelerate at terminal velocity directly into your head.
You let go. You feel free. You think you just wet your pants.
As the ground rushes up to meet you, you think: "Hey, I'm going to actually miss that parking lot after all."
Immediately afterwards, you think: "I'm going to hit that pointy-looking fence really fast."
You have died. You are standing in a graveyard. The world around you is gray and hazy. In front of you stands a billowy ghost-like woman. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH, EAST and WEST. You feel a gentle tug pulling at you from the WEST.
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You have died. You are standing in a graveyard. The world around you is gray and hazy. In front of you stands a billowy ghost-like woman. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH, EAST and WEST. You feel a gentle tug pulling at you from the WEST.
>INVENTORY
You rummage around in your pockets. You have: a piece of SPIRIT EARWAX, an EERIE NOTICE, a GHOSTLY JIMBERJAM, and a PHANTOM PERVER.
You feel a gentle tug from the WEST.
>blame GHOST-LIKE WOMAN instead of taking personal responsibility for this predicament
You round on the SHE-GHOST.
"You!" You shout. "It's all your fault! YOUR fault that I was trapped in that cell! YOUR fault that I'm covered in poop! YOUR fault that I rode that piece of wall without heeding the very clearly worded warning on it! YOUR fault that I fell! YOUR fault that I'm dead!"
The SHE-GHOST looks at you serenely. It's as if she doesn't care. Her serene gaze is very unnerving. You get the feeling that even if she did do all those things, which of course, she certainly did, she would still be wearing that same beatific expression on her face. She almost looks smug.
>ask GHOST-LIKE WOMAN if I've been here before
Realizing that she's not reacting properly to your accusations, you change tacks.
"Do you remember me at all?" You ask. "Have you seen me before?"
The SHE-GHOST gazes at you serenely for a moment. "Maybe on a milk carton," she admits, then adds, "But I'm really not sure."
"I mean, have I been here before?" You ask.
"I'm not sure," she says. "Look, you're really not all that memorable. I see guys like you here all the time."
You feel a gentle tug from the WEST.
>ask GHOST-LIKE WOMAN "Come here often?"
"So..." you say, "Come here often?"
"I work here," the SHE-GHOST says, as she lights up a CIGARETTE. "So yeah, but not voluntarily."
You realize that you've run out of things to say. You try to strike a manly pose, but you discover that this is surprisingly hard to do when you're as dead as you are.
"Can I... buy you a drink?" you ask, before realizing that there's no obvious person here to purchase a drink from.
"Sure," says the SHE-GHOST, and smiles like a cherub.
>ask GHOST-LIKE WOMAN to bring me back to life
"Could you bring me back to life, please?" You ask.
"Where's my drink?" the SHE-GHOST replies.
"Um," you say. "I can only get you that drink if you bring me back to life. Because... They don't let dead people buy stuff around here."
She blows a ring of smoke. "I'm on my smoke break."
The SHE-GHOST waggles her two fingers in a walking gesture. "I'd start walking, if I were you. I can smoke for days."
You feel a gentle tug from the WEST.
>W
Giving up, you start walking WEST. You pass through some gray and shimmery woods, some hazy, rolling hills, and cross a road to reach what appears to be a giant spirit WAL-MART. The WAL-MART is sitting in the center of a large PARKING LOT, which itself is ringed by a BARBED-WIRE FENCE.
You see what appears to be the remains of your CORPSE on and around the FENCE. Most of it is on the other side of the FENCE, but some of it is on this side of the FENCE, and some important ORGANS are stuck in the FENCE itself. You think that might be your EYEBALL rolling around in the dirt.
There is a CROWD of people gathered here. They appear to be pointing and laughing at your CORPSE. One of them pokes at your CORPSE with a stick.
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You see a WAL-MART is sitting in the center of a large PARKING LOT, which itself is ringed by a BARBED-WIRE FENCE.
You see what appears to be the remains of your CORPSE on and around the FENCE. Most of it is on the other side of the FENCE, but some of it is on this side of the FENCE, and some important ORGANS are stuck in the FENCE itself. You think that might be your EYEBALL rolling around in the dirt.
There is a CROWD of people gathered here. They appear to be pointing and laughing at your CORPSE. One of them pokes at your CORPSE with a stick.
>read EERIE NOTICE
You read the EERIE NOTICE. It now reads: "I C U!" The people around you suddenly notice you, and begin gibbering in a frightened manner. You can't quite make out what they're saying, and it still feels as though you're trying to peer through several layers of cheesecloth. They edge away from you, pointing and gibbering.
You stuff the NOTICE back into your pocket to keep both hands free, just in case the CROWD tries to do anything funny. They look visibly relieved.
>reassemble CORPSE with SPIRIT EARWAX
You know how GLUE or EPOXY can actually hold stuff together? SPIRIT GUM was designed to hold stuff together without harming the stuff, and as a result, does neither. And SPIRIT EARWAX isn't even SPIRIT GUM.
Clutching the SPIRIT EARWAX in one hand, you forlornly poke at various bits of your CORPSE. Suddenly, you think: "That's not really me. Well, it was me, but that wasn't originally me." Also, you sense powerful magics emanating from the WAL-MART.
The EARWAX's texture makes it uncomfortable to touch. You stuff it back in your pockets.
>possess GUY WITH STICK
There's a bright, blinding flash of light. The world slowly comes back into view.
You are now the guy with the stick. You are leaning over OLD YOU CORPSE and prodding at it with a STICK. The STICK says "Lousiville Poker" on it.
"Oh yar," says MAN IN CROWD behind you. "People are always trying to get into that Wal-Mart. Happens about once a month regular, I'd say. This one's the worst case I've seen though. Looks like the feller fell from a great height, possibly even from a cell underground."
He pauses, then adds, "I'm sure glad that dang ghost is gone."
>protest the Wal-Mart
You whirl around, wielding the Louisville Poker.
"I think that Wal-Mart is to blame!" you announce.
"What?" says MAN IN CROWD. The CROWD waits for you expectantly.
"It's constantly luring people to their deaths with false promises of riches and wealth!" You shout.
The CROWD is silent, then you hear a slow murmur of agreement. "That damn Wal-Mart!" shouts WOMAN IN CROWD. "Someone ought to do something!"
"How many of our friends and family have we lost to this evil building?" you cry. "How many? How many is enough? Jim here lost his daughter! Old widow Grayson has lost all of her sons to it! How many? HOW MANY?!"
"Wait," says MAN IN CROWD #2. "My name isn't Jim, and my daughter's just fine." The CROWD ignores him. "TOO MANY!" They shout. "TOO MANY!"
You brandish the Louisville Poker over your head. "Mr. Wal-mart!" You shout, "Tear down this fence! We are the ones we've been waiting for! Yes we CAN loot that Wal-Mart!"
The CROWD goes wild. They metamorphose into a MOB, and begin clambering over the BARBED-WIRE FENCE. Many of the members of the MOB lose limbs and even heads to the BARBED-WIRE, which appears to be defending the property with magical cunning.
But a few members of the MOB manage to reach the other side, where they are immediately set upon by MONSTROUS ATTACK DOGS that were lying in wait behind the building. Almost everyone remaining falls victim to the hungry dogs attacks.
One person manages to crawl his stumpified, half-dead self over to the front door of the WAL-MART with his one good arm, even as ATTACK DOGS worry at his lower torso. As he nears the door, however, a loose EXPOSED WIRE drops from somewhere along the exterior wall of the building, instantly killing him.
The ATTACK DOGS return to their hiding place behind the building. The EXPOSED WIRE lies on the ground in front of the door to the WAL-MART, sparking and twitching. There are body parts everywhere.
Look what you have wrought.
>dance
You take a few shuffling steps. Then you take a few more. Then you clap your hands and start busting out some moves. You dance amidst the gory and unnecessary death you have caused. You dance amidst the detached limbs and decapitated heads, some of which are still spurting blood. You get down. Although your moves would embarrass even an 80s pop star, the carnage around you lends a macabre touch to your dance.
You hear the echoes of a faint "ding." You think you may have leveled.
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You hear the echoes of a faint "ding." You think you may have levelled.
>use PHANTOM PERVER on WAL-MART
You retrieve the PERVER from your INVENTORY to use it on the WAL-MART. Except wait, what's this? You don't have one. That's weird. You just had one in your INVENTORY moments ago. Exasperated, you dig through your INVENTORY to try to find it. You have: a NOTICE, a long JIMBERJAM, EXOTIC EARWAX, a STICK, some STRING, some BOTTLECAPS, and a GRUE-DETECTOR. But no PERVER.
Oh well. You're not entirely sure how you would have reached the WAL-MART to perv it, anyway.
>throw STICK in direction of ATTACK DOGS
You hurl the STICK over the FENCE in the general direction of the ATTACK DOGS. They come bounding out, then immediately start tearing each other apart over the STICK. Blood and fur fly everywhere. Eventually, a small, scrappy looking Queensland Heeler emerges triumphant. Gripping the STICK in its jaws, the DOG trots over towards the fence, then easily bounds over it.
It drops the STICK at your feet, then waits expectantly.
>multiclass to BARBARIAN
You multiclass to BARBARIAN! Except wait. You don't appear to be able to do this. Possibly it's because you're of LAWFUL alignment, though you're not sure you actually believe this. Possibly it's because this particular class doesn't exist in this game. Or possibly it's because you didn't level at all, and the faint dinging sound was really somewhat striking a gong, trying to clue you in to stop that unseemly dancing.
Oh well. You tear a shoulder off your shirt to appear more barbaric, and let out your best guttural barbaric roar.
The DOG looks at you, unimpressed. It appears to be getting impatient. And hungry.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is carnage all around you, from the CROWD and the ATTACK DOGS that you have led to their deaths. In addition to the carnage, you see nearby: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a hungry, vicious DOG that is quickly losing its patience.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, STRING, (4) BOTTLECAPS, and a GRUE DETECTOR.
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You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is carnage all around you, from the CROWD and the ATTACK DOGS that you have led to their deaths. In addition to the carnage, you see nearby: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a hungry, vicious DOG that is quickly losing its patience.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, STRING, (4) BOTTLECAPS, and a GRUE DETECTOR.
>use GRUE DETECTOR on DOG
You hold up the GRUE DETECTOR to the DOG. It makes wild beeping sounds. The monitor indicates that there's a GRUE sneaking up behind you. You would turn around to check, but you don't want to take your eyes off the vicious ATTACK DOG, especially as it's looking increasingly impatient and is now slavering while eyeing your head. You're not entirely sure why the DOG would want to eat you when there are so many body parts strewn about, but the ATTACK DOG looks too impatient, hungry, and downright vicious to discuss things in a reasonable manner.
>MACGUYVER an EPIC WEAPON from OLD EYEBALL, LONG JIMBERJAM, EXOTIC EARWAX, STRING, BOTTLECAPS (2)
MACGUYVER? Now, if you had chosen to MACGYVER an EPIC WEAPON, you'd have had a decent chance at success. As it is, you try to MACGUYVER a weapon, which is a step down even from JIMMYING a weapon.
You reach for the OLD EYEBALL, and the ATTACK DOG snaps at you ferociously. No picking things up from the ground while this DOG is sitting here.
You examine the JIMBERJAM. You can't make a weapon from this! Do you even know what a JIMBERJAM is?
You fiddle with the EARWAX, but it's no use. This EARWAX is utterly useless. You're honestly not sure why you even picked this thing up.
This leaves the STRING and the BOTTLECAPS (2). You MACGUYVER a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS] from it, a truly deadly weapon versus any microscopic foe.
The DOG growls at you. You can sense the GRUE approaching.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG in front of you, guarding: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, and a HEEL OF STALE BREAD. A GRUE approacheth from somewhere behind you.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
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You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG in front of you, guarding: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, and a HEEL OF STALE BREAD. A GRUE approacheth from somewhere behind you.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
>provoke ATTACK DOG, then dodge
Hoping that you can lure the ATTACK DOG into the GRUE, you start flailing at it with the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS]. Unfortunately, the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS] is a completely feeble weapon against all creatures larger than lice, and the ATTACK DOG merely appears confused. Your antics, however, appear to have distracted it from its former impatience and hunger. It wags its tail slightly, and barks at you.
Not wanting to give up, you begin harassing the ATTACK DOG verbally. The DOG regains its formerly vicious composure, and begins to growl.
You reach for YOUR OLD EYEBALL, knowing that this has provoked the DOG before. You dive out of the way immediately after your feint, but the DOG is a bit too wily for you. It swerves in mid-air, and its jaws latch onto your arm.
Your GRUE DETECTOR begins beeping off the charts. You can sense the GRUE is very close.
>point at VICIOUS DOG and say "Hey, look! A Tasty grue snack! Yum!"
With your free hand, you point at the ATTACK DOG, shouting "Hey, look! A tasty GRUE snack! Yum!" in the hopes of convincing the GRUE to eat the DOG instead of you. You're not entirely certain this is the best choice, given that the DOG is now affixed to your arm, but you consider that it's probably better than the obvious alternative.
You hear a loud snort from behind your left ear, sounding very much as if it's coming from a skeptical GRUE. You whirl around, the DOG still latched onto your arm, but you see nothing. The DOG begins chewing. It looks as though you're on the path to becoming a tasty DOG snack. You wonder whether it can get worse than this, when you feel the wet drool of a hungry GRUE eyeing a tasty GRUE snack. (Hint: Not the DOG).
>apply NOTICE to GRUE
In sheer panic, you hold the NOTICE up to the GRUE. In a few moments, an excessively vicious ATTACK DOG and a terrifying GRUE will be fighting over your remains. Might as well do something random, right?
There's a glimmer, and the GRUE suddenly shimmers into view. It is a monstrous, horrendous thing, and would have blinded you if you didn't immediately shut your eyes in response. The DOG pauses mid-chew.
"OH SHIT." says the GRUE. "I'VE BEEN SPOTTED."
You can sense that the GRUE is torn. "WELL, SHIT." It finally says. "NOTHING FOR IT, I GUESS. I'LL GET YOU NEXT TIME."
"POOF!" It shouts, and disappears.
You open your eyes. The DOG resumes chewing.
The GRUE suddenly reappears. "OH WAIT," it says, and glares at the DOG. The DOG lets go of your arm, and retreats back towards the FENCE, its tail tucked behind it.
"TRY NOT TO GET ET." says the GRUE. "BY ANYTHING OTHER THAN ME, I MEAN. POOF FOR REAL!"
The GRUE vanishes.
>check OVERDRIVE GAUGE
You don't appear to have one. Your OVERDRIVE MODE is apparently set to CLUTCH. You're not really sure what that means. You're also not entirely sure what the OVERDRIVE GAUGE even does, and you wonder why you bothered checking it.
The GRUE DETECTOR's beeps start growing quieter and less frequent. The ATTACK DOG begins eyeing you hungrily again, though it remains warily positioned for immediate flight.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG cowering by the FENCE. The following things are also in the vicinity: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the LINGERING ODOR OF GRUE.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
---------------------------
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG cowering by the FENCE. The following things are also in the vicinity: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the LINGERING ODOR OF GRUE.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
>point at VICIOUS DOG and with a stern look say "sssst!"
You hiss at the DOG to establish your superiority.
The DOG growls menacingly. Apparently you've just triggered its pack instincts, and now it's looking for a fight for dominance. The result of this fight will establish feeding and mating rights. Unfortunately, you strongly suspect that the DOG will win in hand-to-hand combat. Or soft, manicured hand to sharp, brutal jaws of death combat.
Meanwhile, a WANDERING FAT KID appears from the path behind the dog. Hearing your hiss, he suddenly stops in mid-stride, and looks at you in a mindless, zombie-like fashion.
>use EXOTIC EARWAX on self to become unpalatable to VICIOUS DOG
You take out the EARWAX, hoping the sheer disgusting nature of it will drive the DOG away. But you've apparently forgotten that DOGS are much less sensitive to disgusting things than humans are, as can be evidenced by, for example, their sniffing of each others' butts.
The DOG sniffs at the air when you take the EARWAX out, and begins slavering.
You suddenly sense great MAGIC emanating from the WAL-MART. You also sense some MAGIC from the NOTICE, the RUSHES, the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS] and a puddle of congealing GRUE SPIT. You suspect the FAT KID is being mind-controlled by someone. "Probably you, you jackass," you hear a voice say, but you're not sure where it's coming from.
The DOG eyes the EARWAX intently. The FAT KID eyes you intently. You begin rubbing the EARWAX on yourself, hoping to create a layer of disgustingness that, as we've already established, will do nothing to keep the DOG away.
The DOG appears to be getting angrier and hungrier. The only thing keeping it at bay is the puddle of GRUE SPIT in between you and it. The DOG begins circling.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. Strewn about in the vicinity you see: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT. There is an ANGRY, HUNGRY, VICIOUS DOG circling to try to reach you and your EARWAX. There is a MIND-CONTROLLED FAT KID looking at you with zombie eyes.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX that you are frantically applying to yourself.
-----------------------
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. Strewn about in the vicinity you see: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT. There is an ANGRY, HUNGRY, VICIOUS DOG circling to try to reach you and your EARWAX. There is a MIND-CONTROLLED FAT KID looking at you with zombie eyes.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX that you are frantically applying to yourself.
>push FAT KID
You go over to the FAT KID and shove him over, which appears to break the trance he's in. You break out in laughter while watching his feeble attempts to get back up.
Instinct kicking in, the DOG dashes over to the flailing, defenseless FAT KID and begins worrying at his head. "Ack!" cries the FAT KID, flailing even more. "Help! Help!" You point and laugh at the FAT KID.
>stick RUSHES to freshly applied coat of EXOTIC EARWAX to create STRAW ARMOR
You take advantage of this moment of respite to try to stick RUSHES onto yourself. There are unfortunately two problems with the STRAW ARMOR plan. First, there aren't enough RUSHES. Second, the EARWAX, as has already been established, is not very sticky.
But you resourcefully figure out a way to improvise. You dip the ends of a few rushes into the CONGEALING GRUE SPIT, which is sticky. Then you use the RUSHES to fashion a TWIRLY STRAW MUSTACHIO. You feel sprightly! The only drawback is the noxious GRUE ODOR emanating from the GRUE SPIT GLUE you've applied to your face, but the smell appears to be dissipating.
You twirl one end of your new MUSTACHIO, thinking how clever you are and how wonderfully you've used the time during which the DOG was attacking the FAT KID. The DOG stops worrying the FAT KID, and turns it attention back to you. It leaps at you, snarling, but you dodge out of the way with great rapidity.
Why? You wonder. Why would the DOG still be looking to attack you when there's a perfectly appetizing FAT KID around? You even reek of EARWAX, which should be sure to turn the DOG off.
>jump onto puddle of GRUE SPIT
Sticky shoes? Are you crazy?
You leap onto the puddle of sticky, congealing GRUE SPIT as the GRUE ODOR completely dissipates. Two can play at that game! You think. Clearly the DOG is not attacking the FAT KID because he's too helpless. Well, now your feet are glued to the floor. Who's helpless now?
The dog leaps at you and knocks you over. You flail defenselessly as the DOG begins worrying at your head. "Ack!" you cry, flailing even more. "Help! Help!" The FAT KID, having finally gotten up, walks over to you and begins pointing and laughing.
>STATUS
You are lying on the ground outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT surrounding a WAL-MART. There is a DOG worrying at your head, and a FAT KID laughing at you. Near you are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX.
-----------------------
You are lying on the ground outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT surrounding a WAL-MART. There is a DOG worrying at your head, and a FAT KID laughing at you. Near you are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX.
>exclaim "Oh no! That dog is going to ruin all of these Twinkies I'm carrying! If only someone would help me in exchange for some delicious snacky goodness!"
You try to convince the FAT KID that you have Twinkies, with the expectation that, in exchange for a few Twinkies, the FAT KID will risk his life and confront a VICIOUS, ANGRY DOG to rescue someone who'd just been pushing him.
"Hey Mr. Dog," says the FAT KID. "Can you please try not to damage the Twinkies when you eat this guy? And leave some Twinkies for me? Dogs don't like Twinkies anyway, right?"
The FAT KID watches intently as the DOG gnaws at your head. It appears that he's trying to determine where you are keeping your Twinkies.
"Goddammit, you stupid fat kid!" You shout. "Help me! Attack this vicious dog without regard for your own safety in exchange for Hostess snacks!"
"I'll just get them from your corpse after you're dead," says the FAT KID. "Come on, Mr. Dog! Kill him quick before the Twinkies go stale!"
You shake your fist at the FAT KID. "What kind of fat kid are you?! The very thought of Twinkies should cause you to act senselessly and irrationally!"
The FAT KID ignores you and continues to wait for you to die.
>grab STICK and throw it
Desperately, you lunge for the STICK and hurl it. The DOG goes bounding after it.
"There," says the FAT KID. "I rescued you. Now where's my Twinkie?"
You have just managed to get back to your feet and are considering an appropriate reply when the DOG comes trotting back with the STICK in its jaws. It drops the STICK at your feet.
Both the DOG and the FAT KID look at you expectantly.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and some GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO and some GRUE SPIT.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
----------------------------
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and some GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO and some GRUE SPIT.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
>apply GRUE SPIT on STICK
You quickly scoop the STICK up from the ground. The DOG tries to stop you, but you are far too quick for it. The DOG lunges at you, snarling, but you swiftly dodge out of the way and dip the STICK into the GRUE SPIT, making it nice and sticky.
>throw STICK at FAT KID
You throw the STICK at the FAT KID. The STICK strikes the FAT KID in the forehead, where it adheres. The DOG reverses direction and rushes off after the STICK.
Realizing his danger, the FAT KID removes the STICK from his forehead, but discovers that it is now stuck to his hand. Panicking, the FAT KID bites down on the STICK to unstick his hand, and the STICK becomes stuck to his mouth. By then it is too late.
Sounds of screaming fat kid and the splatter of gore surround you. Moments later, the DOG trots over with a BLOODY STICK, and drops it by your feet. It apparently does this with ease. You're not sure if there's something special about the DOG or if the GRUE SPIT was removed during the grotesque fetch session. The DOG looks at you expectantly.
>NOTICE PORK CHOP in FAT KID's POCKET
You take out the NOTICE and face it towards the FAT KID. While you don't see any obvious PORK CHOP, and while you are unable to tell with certainly whether that thing on the ground is the FAT KID's POCKET or his SPLEEN, you do notice what appears to be a juicy, tender FAT KID CUTLET.
You scoop up the FAT KID CUTLET, but then reconsider. You're hungry, but you're not sure you're ready to go down that route just yet. You toss the FAT KID CUTLET to the DOG, who immediately devours it. The DOG barks, and begins thumping its tail on the ground.
As you pocket the NOTICE, you see some strange glimmers from both the SOUTH and the EAST out of the corner of your eye.
>twirl TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO
You have just caused the death of an innocent if obnoxious FAT KID. You also fed some of his remains to a VICIOUS DOG. You were this close to eating some of the FAT KID yourself.
You twirl your TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO and laugh an evil laugh. The DOG wags its tail and barks an evil bark.
You have gained DARK SIDE POINTS. You think your DARK SIDE POWERS may have grown more powerful. Either that, or you just had an involuntary muscle spasm.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a BLOODY STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. There is a VICIOUS DOG sitting next to you. It appears to be happy with you. . . for the moment.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
-----------------------------------
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a BLOODY STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. There is a VICIOUS DOG sitting next to you. It appears to be happy with you. . . for the moment.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
>pick up all
You pick up the SLEEVE. You suddenly feel less barbaric. No self-respecting barbarian would retrieve the SLEEVE that they'd just torn off. You gain ORDER POINTS. You feel your LOGROS POWERS diminish.
You pick up your OLD EYEBALL. You stare at your OLD EYEBALL. Your OLD EYEBALL stares back at you. The entire experience is very unnerving. You toss the OLD EYEBALL away again, and the DOG promptly snatches it out of the air and gobbles it up.
You pick up the BLOODY STICK. The DOG's ears perk up. It barks and watches you expectantly.
You pick up the HEEL OF STALE BREAD. It feels hard. Harder than most rocks.
You don't want to pick up the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. It is too gory, too strewn about, and even if you managed to get all the pieces back together, you'd be too heavily encumbered trying to carry the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID about. However, you do spot a SEALED MISSIVE among the remains, and you pick that up. It's addressed to someone named G. W. Wizzard, and is covered in stamps loudly proclaiming that the SEALED MISSIVE is confidential.
There is no way you're going to pick up the VICIOUS DOG. Although it's no longer actively trying to eat you, other than the fact that it just ate your OLD EYEBALL, it's still far from friendly.
You already have the TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You already have the LONG JIMBERJAM.
You already have the NOTICE.
You already have the BOTTLECAPS (2).
You already have the GRUE DETECTOR.
You already have the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
You already have the EXOTIC EARWAX.
There is no PERVER here.
You'd only cut yourself trying to pick upt the BARBED-WIRE FENCE.
You can't pick up the PARKING LOT.
You can't reach the WAL-MART from here.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby you see the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. There is a VICIOUS DOG sitting next to you. It appears to be growing impatient.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], EXOTIC EARWAX, a SLEEVE, a BLOODY STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a SEALED MISSIVE.
Inspired by the mspaintadventures website, which in turn seems derived from those old text puzzle games.
Basically, I was going to just describe sequences of events based on the commands that people e-mail me, picking randomly from the commands I have at a cutoff time. If you're not interested, let me know and I'll take you off the list. Here's the first entry, and cutoff type for commands is going to be 10 AM EST tomorrow.
You wake up in a dim, dank cell, somewhere underground. You see some dirty rushes, what appears to be a heel of very stale bread, and an overflowing chamber pot. Someone has scrawled some graffiti on the south wall. To the east is the cell door, made of impervious-looking metal. You hear a mouse squeak.
--------------------------------------
Okay, so I lied about a couple things.
First lie: I'm not updating at 10AM tomorrow (necessarily). I'm updating now, because the commands were too much fun when I thought about them. I'm still going to try to do them at intervals, more or less, so as not to have this turn into continuous spam and also because I'd get fired if I did, but may update at more frequent intervals if I get a fair-sized spate of commands. I'm thinking that the next update will be tomorrow at 12PM EST if I get enough commands from you guys.
Second lie: I'm going to actually just execute all the commands in (I may drop duplicative commands), because the commands are a little too much fun. If there's a real conflict in commands, like if one command would preclude another, I might adjust the timing of the commands. If there's still a conflict, then I'll roll between the conflicting commands.
Anyway, here's the update:
You wake up in a dim, dank cell, somewhere underground. You see some dirty rushes, what appears to be a heel of very stale bread, and an overflowing chamber pot. Someone has scrawled some graffiti on the south wall. To the east is the cell door, made of impervious-looking metal. You hear a mouse squeak.
>read GRAFFITI
You read the GRAFFITI on the SOUTH WALL.
At eye level, the graffiti reads in jagged script: "THERE IS NO ESCAPE!!!"
Below that, in scrawling letters, it reads: "Especially not through this wall."
Below that, in bright yellow block letters, it reads: "THIS WALL IS NOT A FLOTATION DEVICE."
As you finish reading, you hear a loud peal of thunder, which makes you wonder if you did something wrong. You suddenly feel vulnerable, and also a bit chilly. Is there a draft in here?
>examine GRAFFITI
You peer closely at the GRAFFITI. You feel a slight draft in your face. It appears that the mortar may have eaten away along some of the stones.
As you lean forward to take a closer look, a small piece of paper drifts into the cell from the SOUTH WALL. It must have been lodged in one of the cracks between the stones. It drifts to your feet. It appears to be a NOTICE of some sort.
>ride overflowing CHAMBER POT like a mechanical bull
You eagerly mount the overflowing CHAMBER POT, and attempt to ride it like a mechanical bull. The CHAMBER POT is unfortunately too heavy and weighed down with EXCREMENT to afford a very good ride.
When you're done, the CHAMBER POT is overflowing a bit less, and you look like you've pooped yourself.
>search for SCREWDRIVER
You dig around in the CHAMBER POT to find the SCREWDRIVER you hid in there. Except there isn't one. Funny, you could have sworn that you ate a SCREWDRIVER a few days ago and pooped it out into the CHAMBER POT for safe-keeping.
Now it looks like you've pooped yourself AND ran out of toilet paper.
>go DENNIS
You can't go DENNIS from here. You try anyway, really hard, right into a wall. You're pretty sure that DENNIS isn't even a cardinal direction, but you try again anyway, just in case. You now look like a man who has pooped himself, unsuccessfully tried to wipe himself with his hand, and is now repeatedly running into a wall. Congratulations.
Your futile attempts to travel in a nonexistent direction has dislodged an object from the RUSHES. It appears to be a long JIMBERJAM.
>escape from CELL
That's it. You've had enough. In a moment of clarity, you realize that this confinement is driving you not-so-slowly insane. You must get out!
You fling yourself against the IMPERVIOUS DOOR in a frenzied attempt at escape. Unfortunately, the IMPERVIOUS DOOR is impervious. It takes you several minutes to figure this out.
You finally give up and collapse to the ground. Your head feels a little soft and disconcertingly wobbly. Something moist and squishy falls out of your left ear.
An ominous rumble comes from the CHAMBER POT.
-------------------------------------------------
An ominous rumble comes from the CHAMBER POT.
>kick the MOUSE
You begin to suspect that the MICE are mocking you. Those dirty rats! You'll show them! You lie in wait, planning to punt the next MOUSE you see into another text adventure.
After a few moments, a MOUSE comes scurrying out of a SUSPICIOUSLY DIM PATCH in the WEST WALL. You take careful aim, and try to kick it as hard as you can. Unfortunately, the CELL is too dim to see properly, and too dank for you to keep your footing. You miss the MOUSE completely and fall on your back.
You feel foolish.
You hear a MOUSE squeak nearby. It sounds suspiciously like a laugh.
>read NOTICE then teleport out of CELL
The NOTICE simply reads: "NOTICE." There's nothing else written on it.
You form a pretend-telephone with your (relatively) clean hand and say: "Beam me up, Scotty!" Nothing happens. You try again, saying: "Beam me up, Scotty!" in a louder and more demanding voice. You're not entirely sure who Scotty is, but he appears to be ignoring you.
The IMPERVIOUS DOOR suddenly opens, revealing two MEN in DULL WHITE ARMOR and a HAIRY BIPEDAL BEAST. One of the men appears a little short to be wearing the DULL WHITE ARMOR. He begins to say: "We're here to rescue you-" but then notices your appearance.
"Sorry, wrong cell," he says. The MEN and the BEAST leave abruptly, shutting the IMPERVIOUS DOOR behind them. From outside the door, you can hear one of the MEN say: "That was just disgusting." The other MAN replies: "Some people just have no class." The BEAST roars in a guttural yet strangely judgmental way.
>read NOTICE then throw CHAMBER POT at SOUTH WALL
No, really. There's nothing else on that NOTICE. All it says is: "NOTICE." Unconvinced, you turn the NOTICE upside down and examine it. Now it says: "NOTICE," except upside down. You're not certain what the NOTICE is trying to notify you of.
You attempt to lift up the CHAMBER POT to hurl it at the SOUTH WALL, but it is immensely heavy. As much as you strain, you succeed only in budging it a tiny bit. What the hell is in this thing?
Actually, you have some idea. You know that it does contain EXCREMENT, but does not contain a SCREWDRIVER. But you still have no idea why it's so heavy. The CHAMBER POT rumbles yet more ominously.
>put mouth of CHAMBER POT against SOUTH WALL
You give up trying to lift the immense thing, and instead try to tilt the CHAMBER POT forward so that its mouth is facing the SOUTH WALL. You lean against it, summoning all the strength you can muster. The veins bulge out in your head and neck. You think you may pass out.
With a chalkboard-scraping peal, the CHAMBER POT suddenly tips forward, dumping you over and onto some of the EXCREMENT spilling out. When you pick yourself up, you look like a tar baby, except with less tar and more not-tar.
The amount of EXCREMENT streaming out of the CHAMBER POT does not appear to be diminishing. Peculiar. If anything, it appears to be increasing. The ominous rumbling intensifies. Nearby, you hear a mouse snigger.
>use EXCREMENT to cover up the "NO"s and the "NOT"s in the GRAFFITI and wait expectantly
Although somewhat tired of frolicking in the waste matter that is now starting to pool on the floor of the CELL, you decide that it doesn't even matter any more at this point. You daub your hands in the flowing EXCREMENT and gather a generous dollop of it. Hey, this is kind of fun! Almost like making mud pies.
You smear the EXCREMENT over each of the "NO"s and the "NOT"s. The first line now reads: "THERE IS ESCAPE!!!" The second line reads: "Especially through this wall." The third line still reads: "THIS WALL IS NOT A FLOTATION DEVICE." For some reason, the EXCREMENT appears to just magically slide off the third line of GRAFFITI. Now that you think of it, the EXCREMENT appears unable to stick to the NOTICE as well.
Brilliant idea! You wait expectantly, convinced that by playing enough with feces, you can warp reality and alter your surroundings. Nothing happens.
You wait a little more.
The IMPERVIOUS DOOR opens up again. This time, there's a stunningly attractive TOMB RAIDER CHICK at the door, wielding twin BERETTAS. "Oh my God," she says, and immediately shuts the IMPERVIOUS DOOR, leaving you alone in the CELL once more.
The ominous rumbling reaches a fevered pitch.
>dive for COVER
You don't see any COVER here.
The bizarrely literal interpretation of your words only compounds the panic you look at what is now a torrent of EXCREMENT rushing out of the CHAMBER POT. For lack of any better options, you hide underneath the RUSHES, which, being RUSHES, will probably not offer much protection should anything go wrong. Still, you cower in your RUSH cocoon and tightly shut your eyes anyway.
The CHAMBER POT shudders, then heaves to one side. A deafening cracking sound echoes across the room. You are pelted by bits of rock. Thinking that the worst is over, you look up, only to be smacked atop an already wobbly head by a large SLAB OF SOUTH WALL.
You hear several MICE snigger nearby.
Dazed, you look around you. There is a large OPENING in the SOUTH WALL where the GRAFFITI used to be. Through the opening, you can see empty sky. You appear to be high up. The EXCREMENT has formed a WATERFALL flowing out of the OPENING, but is still somehow gathering inside the CELL. It is now knee-deep. You feel the beginnings of a current.
----------------------------------------------------
The EXCREMENT is now hip-deep. A SLAB OF SOUTH WALL floats by you. There is GRAFFITI on it.
>find whatever fell out of LEFT EAR before it is swept away by EXCREMENT
You overcome your panic for just long enough to snag the MOIST SQUISHY OBJECT as it floats past. THE MOIST SQUISHY OBJECT is moist and squishy, and has an oddly unnerving shade of gray to it. It also has the texture of a largish wad of highly elastic snot. You're not certain of what it is, exactly, but you think that it may be an exotic piece of EARWAX. All in all, you're not sure why you picked this thing up.
Shrugging, you deposit the EARWAX in your pocket.
You suddenly think to yourself: "What's this NOTICE about? How come all it says is NOTICE?" You're not sure where the idea came from, but you start suspecting that the NOTICE may be magical in some way.
>use SLAB OF SOUTH WALL as a FLOTATION DEVICE
The current is growing stronger by the moment. You're not sure you can maintain your grip on the broken piece of wall for much longer. You feel certain that you will soon be swept away.
In a desperate bid for safety, you leap onto the SLAB OF SOUTH WALL as it floats past you. Your immediate thought, after you land on the SLAB, is that there probably could have been safer places for you to flee to. You can't think of any obvious options offhand, but you feel that there are probably at least a few safer places to be in life than on top of a broken piece of crumbly wall as it goes careening over the edge of a FECAL WATERFALL. You grip tightly onto the SLAB and hold on for dear life.
The SLAB shoots out into the empty sky, then begins lazily drifting to the ground like a falling leaf. Hey! It's working! You consider getting up to ride the SLAB like a surfboard, but you chicken out and clutch it tightly instead. You sort of resemble a hydrophobic fat kid on a paddleboard.
>examine SLAB OF SOUTH WALL and GRAFFITI
You probably should have done that before you staked your whole life on it. Oh well, better late than never.
The SLAB OF SOUTH WALL is made of a hard, heavy, gray stone. You think to yourself that no reasonable laws of physics would permit this SLAB to float like this, as you drift over the massive FECAL WATERFALL that is still spewing out of the CHAMBER POT in the CELL. The SLAB appears to be from the lower section of the SOUTH WALL, containing most of the third line of GRAFFITI. It currently reads: "NOT A FLOTATION DEVICE."
Something flies out of your pocket and into your face. It is the NOTICE. Stupid NOTICE. You stuff it back into your pocket.
The SLAB abruptly seems to recall that it is made of rather heavy stone, and begins plummeting to the ground below. Yay physic!
The ground gets rapidly closer. You see the telltale glint of brand new parking lot directly below you.
>do a SWAN DIVE into the ASPHALT
You soon realize that you're still clutching the SLAB. Although you realize that you'll probably die either way, you feel as though you might stand a slightly better chance if all you have to worry about is accelerating at terminal velocity into a planet-sized object compared to, say, accelerating at terminal velocity into a planet-sized object AND having a big chunk of rock accelerate at terminal velocity directly into your head.
You let go. You feel free. You think you just wet your pants.
As the ground rushes up to meet you, you think: "Hey, I'm going to actually miss that parking lot after all."
Immediately afterwards, you think: "I'm going to hit that pointy-looking fence really fast."
You have died. You are standing in a graveyard. The world around you is gray and hazy. In front of you stands a billowy ghost-like woman. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH, EAST and WEST. You feel a gentle tug pulling at you from the WEST.
-------------------------------------------------
You have died. You are standing in a graveyard. The world around you is gray and hazy. In front of you stands a billowy ghost-like woman. Obvious exits are NORTH, SOUTH, EAST and WEST. You feel a gentle tug pulling at you from the WEST.
>INVENTORY
You rummage around in your pockets. You have: a piece of SPIRIT EARWAX, an EERIE NOTICE, a GHOSTLY JIMBERJAM, and a PHANTOM PERVER.
You feel a gentle tug from the WEST.
>blame GHOST-LIKE WOMAN instead of taking personal responsibility for this predicament
You round on the SHE-GHOST.
"You!" You shout. "It's all your fault! YOUR fault that I was trapped in that cell! YOUR fault that I'm covered in poop! YOUR fault that I rode that piece of wall without heeding the very clearly worded warning on it! YOUR fault that I fell! YOUR fault that I'm dead!"
The SHE-GHOST looks at you serenely. It's as if she doesn't care. Her serene gaze is very unnerving. You get the feeling that even if she did do all those things, which of course, she certainly did, she would still be wearing that same beatific expression on her face. She almost looks smug.
>ask GHOST-LIKE WOMAN if I've been here before
Realizing that she's not reacting properly to your accusations, you change tacks.
"Do you remember me at all?" You ask. "Have you seen me before?"
The SHE-GHOST gazes at you serenely for a moment. "Maybe on a milk carton," she admits, then adds, "But I'm really not sure."
"I mean, have I been here before?" You ask.
"I'm not sure," she says. "Look, you're really not all that memorable. I see guys like you here all the time."
You feel a gentle tug from the WEST.
>ask GHOST-LIKE WOMAN "Come here often?"
"So..." you say, "Come here often?"
"I work here," the SHE-GHOST says, as she lights up a CIGARETTE. "So yeah, but not voluntarily."
You realize that you've run out of things to say. You try to strike a manly pose, but you discover that this is surprisingly hard to do when you're as dead as you are.
"Can I... buy you a drink?" you ask, before realizing that there's no obvious person here to purchase a drink from.
"Sure," says the SHE-GHOST, and smiles like a cherub.
>ask GHOST-LIKE WOMAN to bring me back to life
"Could you bring me back to life, please?" You ask.
"Where's my drink?" the SHE-GHOST replies.
"Um," you say. "I can only get you that drink if you bring me back to life. Because... They don't let dead people buy stuff around here."
She blows a ring of smoke. "I'm on my smoke break."
The SHE-GHOST waggles her two fingers in a walking gesture. "I'd start walking, if I were you. I can smoke for days."
You feel a gentle tug from the WEST.
>W
Giving up, you start walking WEST. You pass through some gray and shimmery woods, some hazy, rolling hills, and cross a road to reach what appears to be a giant spirit WAL-MART. The WAL-MART is sitting in the center of a large PARKING LOT, which itself is ringed by a BARBED-WIRE FENCE.
You see what appears to be the remains of your CORPSE on and around the FENCE. Most of it is on the other side of the FENCE, but some of it is on this side of the FENCE, and some important ORGANS are stuck in the FENCE itself. You think that might be your EYEBALL rolling around in the dirt.
There is a CROWD of people gathered here. They appear to be pointing and laughing at your CORPSE. One of them pokes at your CORPSE with a stick.
---------------------------------------
You see a WAL-MART is sitting in the center of a large PARKING LOT, which itself is ringed by a BARBED-WIRE FENCE.
You see what appears to be the remains of your CORPSE on and around the FENCE. Most of it is on the other side of the FENCE, but some of it is on this side of the FENCE, and some important ORGANS are stuck in the FENCE itself. You think that might be your EYEBALL rolling around in the dirt.
There is a CROWD of people gathered here. They appear to be pointing and laughing at your CORPSE. One of them pokes at your CORPSE with a stick.
>read EERIE NOTICE
You read the EERIE NOTICE. It now reads: "I C U!" The people around you suddenly notice you, and begin gibbering in a frightened manner. You can't quite make out what they're saying, and it still feels as though you're trying to peer through several layers of cheesecloth. They edge away from you, pointing and gibbering.
You stuff the NOTICE back into your pocket to keep both hands free, just in case the CROWD tries to do anything funny. They look visibly relieved.
>reassemble CORPSE with SPIRIT EARWAX
You know how GLUE or EPOXY can actually hold stuff together? SPIRIT GUM was designed to hold stuff together without harming the stuff, and as a result, does neither. And SPIRIT EARWAX isn't even SPIRIT GUM.
Clutching the SPIRIT EARWAX in one hand, you forlornly poke at various bits of your CORPSE. Suddenly, you think: "That's not really me. Well, it was me, but that wasn't originally me." Also, you sense powerful magics emanating from the WAL-MART.
The EARWAX's texture makes it uncomfortable to touch. You stuff it back in your pockets.
>possess GUY WITH STICK
There's a bright, blinding flash of light. The world slowly comes back into view.
You are now the guy with the stick. You are leaning over OLD YOU CORPSE and prodding at it with a STICK. The STICK says "Lousiville Poker" on it.
"Oh yar," says MAN IN CROWD behind you. "People are always trying to get into that Wal-Mart. Happens about once a month regular, I'd say. This one's the worst case I've seen though. Looks like the feller fell from a great height, possibly even from a cell underground."
He pauses, then adds, "I'm sure glad that dang ghost is gone."
>protest the Wal-Mart
You whirl around, wielding the Louisville Poker.
"I think that Wal-Mart is to blame!" you announce.
"What?" says MAN IN CROWD. The CROWD waits for you expectantly.
"It's constantly luring people to their deaths with false promises of riches and wealth!" You shout.
The CROWD is silent, then you hear a slow murmur of agreement. "That damn Wal-Mart!" shouts WOMAN IN CROWD. "Someone ought to do something!"
"How many of our friends and family have we lost to this evil building?" you cry. "How many? How many is enough? Jim here lost his daughter! Old widow Grayson has lost all of her sons to it! How many? HOW MANY?!"
"Wait," says MAN IN CROWD #2. "My name isn't Jim, and my daughter's just fine." The CROWD ignores him. "TOO MANY!" They shout. "TOO MANY!"
You brandish the Louisville Poker over your head. "Mr. Wal-mart!" You shout, "Tear down this fence! We are the ones we've been waiting for! Yes we CAN loot that Wal-Mart!"
The CROWD goes wild. They metamorphose into a MOB, and begin clambering over the BARBED-WIRE FENCE. Many of the members of the MOB lose limbs and even heads to the BARBED-WIRE, which appears to be defending the property with magical cunning.
But a few members of the MOB manage to reach the other side, where they are immediately set upon by MONSTROUS ATTACK DOGS that were lying in wait behind the building. Almost everyone remaining falls victim to the hungry dogs attacks.
One person manages to crawl his stumpified, half-dead self over to the front door of the WAL-MART with his one good arm, even as ATTACK DOGS worry at his lower torso. As he nears the door, however, a loose EXPOSED WIRE drops from somewhere along the exterior wall of the building, instantly killing him.
The ATTACK DOGS return to their hiding place behind the building. The EXPOSED WIRE lies on the ground in front of the door to the WAL-MART, sparking and twitching. There are body parts everywhere.
Look what you have wrought.
>dance
You take a few shuffling steps. Then you take a few more. Then you clap your hands and start busting out some moves. You dance amidst the gory and unnecessary death you have caused. You dance amidst the detached limbs and decapitated heads, some of which are still spurting blood. You get down. Although your moves would embarrass even an 80s pop star, the carnage around you lends a macabre touch to your dance.
You hear the echoes of a faint "ding." You think you may have leveled.
--------------------------------------
You hear the echoes of a faint "ding." You think you may have levelled.
>use PHANTOM PERVER on WAL-MART
You retrieve the PERVER from your INVENTORY to use it on the WAL-MART. Except wait, what's this? You don't have one. That's weird. You just had one in your INVENTORY moments ago. Exasperated, you dig through your INVENTORY to try to find it. You have: a NOTICE, a long JIMBERJAM, EXOTIC EARWAX, a STICK, some STRING, some BOTTLECAPS, and a GRUE-DETECTOR. But no PERVER.
Oh well. You're not entirely sure how you would have reached the WAL-MART to perv it, anyway.
>throw STICK in direction of ATTACK DOGS
You hurl the STICK over the FENCE in the general direction of the ATTACK DOGS. They come bounding out, then immediately start tearing each other apart over the STICK. Blood and fur fly everywhere. Eventually, a small, scrappy looking Queensland Heeler emerges triumphant. Gripping the STICK in its jaws, the DOG trots over towards the fence, then easily bounds over it.
It drops the STICK at your feet, then waits expectantly.
>multiclass to BARBARIAN
You multiclass to BARBARIAN! Except wait. You don't appear to be able to do this. Possibly it's because you're of LAWFUL alignment, though you're not sure you actually believe this. Possibly it's because this particular class doesn't exist in this game. Or possibly it's because you didn't level at all, and the faint dinging sound was really somewhat striking a gong, trying to clue you in to stop that unseemly dancing.
Oh well. You tear a shoulder off your shirt to appear more barbaric, and let out your best guttural barbaric roar.
The DOG looks at you, unimpressed. It appears to be getting impatient. And hungry.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is carnage all around you, from the CROWD and the ATTACK DOGS that you have led to their deaths. In addition to the carnage, you see nearby: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a hungry, vicious DOG that is quickly losing its patience.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, STRING, (4) BOTTLECAPS, and a GRUE DETECTOR.
------------------------------
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is carnage all around you, from the CROWD and the ATTACK DOGS that you have led to their deaths. In addition to the carnage, you see nearby: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a hungry, vicious DOG that is quickly losing its patience.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, STRING, (4) BOTTLECAPS, and a GRUE DETECTOR.
>use GRUE DETECTOR on DOG
You hold up the GRUE DETECTOR to the DOG. It makes wild beeping sounds. The monitor indicates that there's a GRUE sneaking up behind you. You would turn around to check, but you don't want to take your eyes off the vicious ATTACK DOG, especially as it's looking increasingly impatient and is now slavering while eyeing your head. You're not entirely sure why the DOG would want to eat you when there are so many body parts strewn about, but the ATTACK DOG looks too impatient, hungry, and downright vicious to discuss things in a reasonable manner.
>MACGUYVER an EPIC WEAPON from OLD EYEBALL, LONG JIMBERJAM, EXOTIC EARWAX, STRING, BOTTLECAPS (2)
MACGUYVER? Now, if you had chosen to MACGYVER an EPIC WEAPON, you'd have had a decent chance at success. As it is, you try to MACGUYVER a weapon, which is a step down even from JIMMYING a weapon.
You reach for the OLD EYEBALL, and the ATTACK DOG snaps at you ferociously. No picking things up from the ground while this DOG is sitting here.
You examine the JIMBERJAM. You can't make a weapon from this! Do you even know what a JIMBERJAM is?
You fiddle with the EARWAX, but it's no use. This EARWAX is utterly useless. You're honestly not sure why you even picked this thing up.
This leaves the STRING and the BOTTLECAPS (2). You MACGUYVER a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS] from it, a truly deadly weapon versus any microscopic foe.
The DOG growls at you. You can sense the GRUE approaching.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG in front of you, guarding: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, and a HEEL OF STALE BREAD. A GRUE approacheth from somewhere behind you.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
----------------------------
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG in front of you, guarding: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, and a HEEL OF STALE BREAD. A GRUE approacheth from somewhere behind you.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
>provoke ATTACK DOG, then dodge
Hoping that you can lure the ATTACK DOG into the GRUE, you start flailing at it with the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS]. Unfortunately, the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS] is a completely feeble weapon against all creatures larger than lice, and the ATTACK DOG merely appears confused. Your antics, however, appear to have distracted it from its former impatience and hunger. It wags its tail slightly, and barks at you.
Not wanting to give up, you begin harassing the ATTACK DOG verbally. The DOG regains its formerly vicious composure, and begins to growl.
You reach for YOUR OLD EYEBALL, knowing that this has provoked the DOG before. You dive out of the way immediately after your feint, but the DOG is a bit too wily for you. It swerves in mid-air, and its jaws latch onto your arm.
Your GRUE DETECTOR begins beeping off the charts. You can sense the GRUE is very close.
>point at VICIOUS DOG and say "Hey, look! A Tasty grue snack! Yum!"
With your free hand, you point at the ATTACK DOG, shouting "Hey, look! A tasty GRUE snack! Yum!" in the hopes of convincing the GRUE to eat the DOG instead of you. You're not entirely certain this is the best choice, given that the DOG is now affixed to your arm, but you consider that it's probably better than the obvious alternative.
You hear a loud snort from behind your left ear, sounding very much as if it's coming from a skeptical GRUE. You whirl around, the DOG still latched onto your arm, but you see nothing. The DOG begins chewing. It looks as though you're on the path to becoming a tasty DOG snack. You wonder whether it can get worse than this, when you feel the wet drool of a hungry GRUE eyeing a tasty GRUE snack. (Hint: Not the DOG).
>apply NOTICE to GRUE
In sheer panic, you hold the NOTICE up to the GRUE. In a few moments, an excessively vicious ATTACK DOG and a terrifying GRUE will be fighting over your remains. Might as well do something random, right?
There's a glimmer, and the GRUE suddenly shimmers into view. It is a monstrous, horrendous thing, and would have blinded you if you didn't immediately shut your eyes in response. The DOG pauses mid-chew.
"OH SHIT." says the GRUE. "I'VE BEEN SPOTTED."
You can sense that the GRUE is torn. "WELL, SHIT." It finally says. "NOTHING FOR IT, I GUESS. I'LL GET YOU NEXT TIME."
"POOF!" It shouts, and disappears.
You open your eyes. The DOG resumes chewing.
The GRUE suddenly reappears. "OH WAIT," it says, and glares at the DOG. The DOG lets go of your arm, and retreats back towards the FENCE, its tail tucked behind it.
"TRY NOT TO GET ET." says the GRUE. "BY ANYTHING OTHER THAN ME, I MEAN. POOF FOR REAL!"
The GRUE vanishes.
>check OVERDRIVE GAUGE
You don't appear to have one. Your OVERDRIVE MODE is apparently set to CLUTCH. You're not really sure what that means. You're also not entirely sure what the OVERDRIVE GAUGE even does, and you wonder why you bothered checking it.
The GRUE DETECTOR's beeps start growing quieter and less frequent. The ATTACK DOG begins eyeing you hungrily again, though it remains warily positioned for immediate flight.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG cowering by the FENCE. The following things are also in the vicinity: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the LINGERING ODOR OF GRUE.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
---------------------------
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. There is an ATTACK DOG cowering by the FENCE. The following things are also in the vicinity: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the LINGERING ODOR OF GRUE.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, EXOTIC EARWAX, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, and a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
>point at VICIOUS DOG and with a stern look say "sssst!"
You hiss at the DOG to establish your superiority.
The DOG growls menacingly. Apparently you've just triggered its pack instincts, and now it's looking for a fight for dominance. The result of this fight will establish feeding and mating rights. Unfortunately, you strongly suspect that the DOG will win in hand-to-hand combat. Or soft, manicured hand to sharp, brutal jaws of death combat.
Meanwhile, a WANDERING FAT KID appears from the path behind the dog. Hearing your hiss, he suddenly stops in mid-stride, and looks at you in a mindless, zombie-like fashion.
>use EXOTIC EARWAX on self to become unpalatable to VICIOUS DOG
You take out the EARWAX, hoping the sheer disgusting nature of it will drive the DOG away. But you've apparently forgotten that DOGS are much less sensitive to disgusting things than humans are, as can be evidenced by, for example, their sniffing of each others' butts.
The DOG sniffs at the air when you take the EARWAX out, and begins slavering.
You suddenly sense great MAGIC emanating from the WAL-MART. You also sense some MAGIC from the NOTICE, the RUSHES, the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS] and a puddle of congealing GRUE SPIT. You suspect the FAT KID is being mind-controlled by someone. "Probably you, you jackass," you hear a voice say, but you're not sure where it's coming from.
The DOG eyes the EARWAX intently. The FAT KID eyes you intently. You begin rubbing the EARWAX on yourself, hoping to create a layer of disgustingness that, as we've already established, will do nothing to keep the DOG away.
The DOG appears to be getting angrier and hungrier. The only thing keeping it at bay is the puddle of GRUE SPIT in between you and it. The DOG begins circling.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. Strewn about in the vicinity you see: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT. There is an ANGRY, HUNGRY, VICIOUS DOG circling to try to reach you and your EARWAX. There is a MIND-CONTROLLED FAT KID looking at you with zombie eyes.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX that you are frantically applying to yourself.
-----------------------
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT. At the center of the PARKING LOT is a WAL-MART. Strewn about in the vicinity you see: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, some FALLEN RUSHES, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT. There is an ANGRY, HUNGRY, VICIOUS DOG circling to try to reach you and your EARWAX. There is a MIND-CONTROLLED FAT KID looking at you with zombie eyes.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX that you are frantically applying to yourself.
>push FAT KID
You go over to the FAT KID and shove him over, which appears to break the trance he's in. You break out in laughter while watching his feeble attempts to get back up.
Instinct kicking in, the DOG dashes over to the flailing, defenseless FAT KID and begins worrying at his head. "Ack!" cries the FAT KID, flailing even more. "Help! Help!" You point and laugh at the FAT KID.
>stick RUSHES to freshly applied coat of EXOTIC EARWAX to create STRAW ARMOR
You take advantage of this moment of respite to try to stick RUSHES onto yourself. There are unfortunately two problems with the STRAW ARMOR plan. First, there aren't enough RUSHES. Second, the EARWAX, as has already been established, is not very sticky.
But you resourcefully figure out a way to improvise. You dip the ends of a few rushes into the CONGEALING GRUE SPIT, which is sticky. Then you use the RUSHES to fashion a TWIRLY STRAW MUSTACHIO. You feel sprightly! The only drawback is the noxious GRUE ODOR emanating from the GRUE SPIT GLUE you've applied to your face, but the smell appears to be dissipating.
You twirl one end of your new MUSTACHIO, thinking how clever you are and how wonderfully you've used the time during which the DOG was attacking the FAT KID. The DOG stops worrying the FAT KID, and turns it attention back to you. It leaps at you, snarling, but you dodge out of the way with great rapidity.
Why? You wonder. Why would the DOG still be looking to attack you when there's a perfectly appetizing FAT KID around? You even reek of EARWAX, which should be sure to turn the DOG off.
>jump onto puddle of GRUE SPIT
Sticky shoes? Are you crazy?
You leap onto the puddle of sticky, congealing GRUE SPIT as the GRUE ODOR completely dissipates. Two can play at that game! You think. Clearly the DOG is not attacking the FAT KID because he's too helpless. Well, now your feet are glued to the floor. Who's helpless now?
The dog leaps at you and knocks you over. You flail defenselessly as the DOG begins worrying at your head. "Ack!" you cry, flailing even more. "Help! Help!" The FAT KID, having finally gotten up, walks over to you and begins pointing and laughing.
>STATUS
You are lying on the ground outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT surrounding a WAL-MART. There is a DOG worrying at your head, and a FAT KID laughing at you. Near you are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX.
-----------------------
You are lying on the ground outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT surrounding a WAL-MART. There is a DOG worrying at your head, and a FAT KID laughing at you. Near you are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a PUDDLE OF CONGEALING GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and some EXOTIC EARWAX.
>exclaim "Oh no! That dog is going to ruin all of these Twinkies I'm carrying! If only someone would help me in exchange for some delicious snacky goodness!"
You try to convince the FAT KID that you have Twinkies, with the expectation that, in exchange for a few Twinkies, the FAT KID will risk his life and confront a VICIOUS, ANGRY DOG to rescue someone who'd just been pushing him.
"Hey Mr. Dog," says the FAT KID. "Can you please try not to damage the Twinkies when you eat this guy? And leave some Twinkies for me? Dogs don't like Twinkies anyway, right?"
The FAT KID watches intently as the DOG gnaws at your head. It appears that he's trying to determine where you are keeping your Twinkies.
"Goddammit, you stupid fat kid!" You shout. "Help me! Attack this vicious dog without regard for your own safety in exchange for Hostess snacks!"
"I'll just get them from your corpse after you're dead," says the FAT KID. "Come on, Mr. Dog! Kill him quick before the Twinkies go stale!"
You shake your fist at the FAT KID. "What kind of fat kid are you?! The very thought of Twinkies should cause you to act senselessly and irrationally!"
The FAT KID ignores you and continues to wait for you to die.
>grab STICK and throw it
Desperately, you lunge for the STICK and hurl it. The DOG goes bounding after it.
"There," says the FAT KID. "I rescued you. Now where's my Twinkie?"
You have just managed to get back to your feet and are considering an appropriate reply when the DOG comes trotting back with the STICK in its jaws. It drops the STICK at your feet.
Both the DOG and the FAT KID look at you expectantly.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and some GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO and some GRUE SPIT.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
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You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and some GRUE SPIT.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO and some GRUE SPIT.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
>apply GRUE SPIT on STICK
You quickly scoop the STICK up from the ground. The DOG tries to stop you, but you are far too quick for it. The DOG lunges at you, snarling, but you swiftly dodge out of the way and dip the STICK into the GRUE SPIT, making it nice and sticky.
>throw STICK at FAT KID
You throw the STICK at the FAT KID. The STICK strikes the FAT KID in the forehead, where it adheres. The DOG reverses direction and rushes off after the STICK.
Realizing his danger, the FAT KID removes the STICK from his forehead, but discovers that it is now stuck to his hand. Panicking, the FAT KID bites down on the STICK to unstick his hand, and the STICK becomes stuck to his mouth. By then it is too late.
Sounds of screaming fat kid and the splatter of gore surround you. Moments later, the DOG trots over with a BLOODY STICK, and drops it by your feet. It apparently does this with ease. You're not sure if there's something special about the DOG or if the GRUE SPIT was removed during the grotesque fetch session. The DOG looks at you expectantly.
>NOTICE PORK CHOP in FAT KID's POCKET
You take out the NOTICE and face it towards the FAT KID. While you don't see any obvious PORK CHOP, and while you are unable to tell with certainly whether that thing on the ground is the FAT KID's POCKET or his SPLEEN, you do notice what appears to be a juicy, tender FAT KID CUTLET.
You scoop up the FAT KID CUTLET, but then reconsider. You're hungry, but you're not sure you're ready to go down that route just yet. You toss the FAT KID CUTLET to the DOG, who immediately devours it. The DOG barks, and begins thumping its tail on the ground.
As you pocket the NOTICE, you see some strange glimmers from both the SOUTH and the EAST out of the corner of your eye.
>twirl TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO
You have just caused the death of an innocent if obnoxious FAT KID. You also fed some of his remains to a VICIOUS DOG. You were this close to eating some of the FAT KID yourself.
You twirl your TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO and laugh an evil laugh. The DOG wags its tail and barks an evil bark.
You have gained DARK SIDE POINTS. You think your DARK SIDE POWERS may have grown more powerful. Either that, or you just had an involuntary muscle spasm.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a BLOODY STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. There is a VICIOUS DOG sitting next to you. It appears to be happy with you. . . for the moment.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
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You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby are: a SLEEVE, your OLD EYEBALL, a BLOODY STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. There is a VICIOUS DOG sitting next to you. It appears to be happy with you. . . for the moment.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], and EXOTIC EARWAX.
>pick up all
You pick up the SLEEVE. You suddenly feel less barbaric. No self-respecting barbarian would retrieve the SLEEVE that they'd just torn off. You gain ORDER POINTS. You feel your LOGROS POWERS diminish.
You pick up your OLD EYEBALL. You stare at your OLD EYEBALL. Your OLD EYEBALL stares back at you. The entire experience is very unnerving. You toss the OLD EYEBALL away again, and the DOG promptly snatches it out of the air and gobbles it up.
You pick up the BLOODY STICK. The DOG's ears perk up. It barks and watches you expectantly.
You pick up the HEEL OF STALE BREAD. It feels hard. Harder than most rocks.
You don't want to pick up the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. It is too gory, too strewn about, and even if you managed to get all the pieces back together, you'd be too heavily encumbered trying to carry the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID about. However, you do spot a SEALED MISSIVE among the remains, and you pick that up. It's addressed to someone named G. W. Wizzard, and is covered in stamps loudly proclaiming that the SEALED MISSIVE is confidential.
There is no way you're going to pick up the VICIOUS DOG. Although it's no longer actively trying to eat you, other than the fact that it just ate your OLD EYEBALL, it's still far from friendly.
You already have the TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You already have the LONG JIMBERJAM.
You already have the NOTICE.
You already have the BOTTLECAPS (2).
You already have the GRUE DETECTOR.
You already have the [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS].
You already have the EXOTIC EARWAX.
There is no PERVER here.
You'd only cut yourself trying to pick upt the BARBED-WIRE FENCE.
You can't pick up the PARKING LOT.
You can't reach the WAL-MART from here.
>STATUS
You are standing outside a BARBED-WIRE FENCE surrounding a PARKING LOT, which in turn surrounds a WAL-MART. Nearby you see the MUTILATED REMAINS OF A FAT KID. There is a VICIOUS DOG sitting next to you. It appears to be growing impatient.
You have equipped: a TWIRLY RUSH MUSTACHIO.
You are currently carrying: a LONG JIMBERJAM, a NOTICE, (2) BOTTLECAPS, a GRUE DETECTOR, a [SURUJIN OF INFINITESIMAL BEATINGS], EXOTIC EARWAX, a SLEEVE, a BLOODY STICK, a HEEL OF STALE BREAD, and a SEALED MISSIVE.