What Happens in Vagueness
by Sam Kabo Ashwell (2008)
Genres: IF Whispers


action: %
response: Just your luck. You were on your way to your Aunt Mabel's 100th birthday party when your car finally gave up the ghost. Not like it hasn't been trying to do that for weeks, but on a student budget a newer car was out of reach. Nothing to do but walk to the nearest town and see about other transportation.

Type "about" for more information.

You're standing on a stretch of road by your car. On the sides of the road is nothing but flat, dry ground and nothing to see at all to the horizon. The sign you passed a few miles back said it was about 10 miles to the nearest town, the name of which you've already forgotten. Seeing as it's even farther back to the previous town, the only way to go is forward to the east.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

You can also see your car and a road sign here.
action: About yourself
response: You're tall and thirsty. Too old to be drifting loose, too young to have done anything much to deserve confirmation - your tattoos show that much.
action: You examine the tattoos
response: Your right arm, left hand and the left side of your face are partially covered with blocky, rounded glyphs precisely specifying your age, blood type, status (social, economic, marital) and affiliations (birth-clan, adopted clan, moiety, college). None of which are going to impress anybody, except for the adopted-clan part, perhaps; Aunt Mabel's reputation extends across the known world. But even so, the conspicuous hollow circles on the backs of both hands mark you as unconfirmed.

Curb skitters about.
action: You look at Curb
response: Now this here is a pedigree Chattanooga brindled mooch-hound. This noble breed, of which Curb forms paradigm and pinnacle, is eight kinds of crazy, twelve kinds of stupid and every kind of mean.

You didn't exactly plan for a hound. A friend's bitch whelped, you were trying to act cute around a girl, and you were not at that time familiar with the quirks of the breed. The puppy got a home, you got a lifelong companion, the girl got eight stitches and the hell out of Dodge.

Curb scratches his ear.
action: You look at car
response: This piece of junk has seen you through three years of school. You just needed it to last a little longer. Too bad it didn't. Other than that, it's got the usual things you'd find on a car... steering wheel, those little pedals that's supposed to make it go "zoom," oh, and there's also a trunk in back.

Thrown across the back seat you can see the guitar.

Curb peers curiously at Treasure Huntery Lesson 1.
action: You take the guitar
response: The car isn't open.

Curb gnaws hungrily on his own forepaw.
action: You open the car
response: You open the car.

Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
your car keys
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Curb sniffs at the road sign like the horrible little pervert he is.
action: You examine the sign
response: At some juncture of the distant past it may, you surmise, have displayed information of some kind; the original content has been effaced, but it still tells you something; to wit, folks here have ammo to waste and don't mind shooting at trash.

Curb peers curiously at the car keys.
action: You take the guitar
response: Taken.
action: You play the guitar
response: You play a few notes of "Puff, the Magic Dragon". Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.
action: You open the trunk
response: Twenty hours on the road are starting to take its toll on your motor skills: on the first try, you fumble the keys and drop them onto the blacktop. With a yelp of joy, Curb snaps them up and dodges out of reach. Well, fuck.

Curb starts at nothing, and half falls over in a desperate attempt to escape it.
action: You take keys
response: That dog has a laudable attitude towards the defence of private property, and you have no desire to add a ragged, septic hand wound to your troubles.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
action: Pet dog
response: an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.

You vigorously pat Curb's head until he closes his eyes and nearly falls asleep. The second you stop, though, he returns to his same old self.

Curb attempts to howl, but it devolves into a whimper.
action: You read the lesson
response: "Treasure Huntery Lesson 1: Maps" is a slim pamphlet that gives just the basics. You've read it a thousand times, but it never hurts to have it on hand.

Curb snaps at flies.
action: You read the treasure huntery
response: "The first thing any treasure hunter needs is a map. It's no good to just go looking for treasure with no idea of where to look! You may be skeptical about the existence of actual treasure maps, but in fact the people who hid treasure generally wanted to be able to find it again, or even to let their heirs or accomplices find it in the event that they could not. This doesn't mean they made it easy!"
action: You go to the east
response: It might be a good idea to close the car first.
action: You wait awhile
response: Time passes.
action: Go west
response: You trudge back toward your car.

You're standing on a stretch of road by your car. On the sides of the road is nothing but flat, dry ground and nothing to see at all to the horizon. The sign you passed a few miles back said it was about 10 miles to the nearest town, the name of which you've already forgotten. Seeing as it's even farther back to the previous town, the only way to go is forward to the east.

You can see your car and a road sign here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You open the car
response: You open the car.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You look at the trunk
response: Yep. It's a trunk, and it's at the back of the car. You can't remember if you put anything useful in there before you left your house or not.

Naturally, a protective geesoofus is prominently displayed. You wouldn't cross the badlands without one.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You look in the car
response: The car is empty.
action: You get in the car
response: You get into the car.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You open the trunk
response: You lack a key that fits the trunk.

Curb scratches his ear.
action: You search the car
response: The car is empty.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You open the trunk
response: Curb has better things to do.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You examine the wheel
response: That's what you would use to steer the car, if it actually worked.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You hit the dog with the guitar
response: Violence isn't the answer to this one.

Curb fixes you with a look of abject guilt and keens softly.
action: You sit
response: You are carrying:
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Curb chases his tail, squealing frustration.

(on the car keys)
Curb has better things to do.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You give the hat to dog
response: Like hell! That good-for-nothing hound destroys everything you own, but you've got to keep some things sacred.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You give the panga to the dog
response: Curb watches the panga with a sceptical eye, considers its merits relative to the car keys, decides that you're trying to manipulate him and scampers to a safe distance.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You look at the panga
response: Two feet of heavy, sharp iron with a single blade. Machete, some call it. It's not much, but you're stuck with it.

When you was born, your folks were in a bad way; they'd just gotten run out of the Dakotas, were getting just whatever work they could find till a House turned up that was accepting indentured, and didn't have the money to get anything better. So you got bound to this overgrown sheath-knife.

It's a good tool and all, and your folks did all they could to get it, but - any road, you're bound to it now, so make the best of it.
action: You attack Curb with the panga
response: Violence isn't the answer to this one.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You examine the sign
response: At some juncture of the distant past it may, you surmise, have displayed information of some kind; the original content has been effaced, but it still tells you something; to wit, folks here have ammo to waste and don't mind shooting at trash.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You get the sign
response: That's fixed in place.

Curb snaps viciously at you, then backs away with his tail between his legs.
action: Kiss Curb
response: Keep your mind on the game.
action: You give the Treasure Huntery to curb
response: Curb watches Treasure Huntery Lesson 1 with a sceptical eye, considers its merits relative to the car keys, decides that you're trying to manipulate him and scampers to a safe distance.
action: You go to the east
response: It might be a good idea to close the car first.
action: You look at the billboard
response: * Water - Tobbaco - Erotica - Local Crafts *

The paint's faded and worn away in patches, and you can see no evidence of life; but that needn't mean anything, out here.
action: Go east
response: You continue to trudge down the road, you car falling away from sight behind you.

As the highway continues to the east, you can see a rutted dirt path heading off to the north toward what looks like a small farmhouse.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Examine farmhouse
response: It's seen better days.
action: You go to the north
response: You head toward the small farmhouse.

A wide porch of wood slats, with the obligatory animal skulls nailed up against the wall. South leads back to the road; north takes you inside.

Just outside the shadowed doorway, a parched corpse slumps in a rocking-chair, a long gun across his knees.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You look at the corpse
response: Tall guy. Thin, but that's most likely just how you get when you dry out. Old clothes; someone already took his hat and been through his pockets. Buzzards been at him, so you can't tell much else. Had a red beard. Gun still lying across his lap.

Curb attempts to swallow your car keys, chokes, and brings them back up. He doesn't drop them, though.
action: You look at the gun
response: Long enough barrel, but it's just a home-made matchlock. Badly made, too - the lock's blown wide open. Likely that's what got him. Certainly didn't help him any.
action: You take the gun
response: With a sharp tug, you pull the gun from the corpse's stiff hands. As you do, the blasted lock falls apart entirely, leaving you with just the long musket-barrel.
action: Examine barrel
response: A musket barrel about five and a half feet long. More suited to a drainpipe than a gun, but you're in no place to judge.

Curb snaps at flies.
action: Go north
response: Light spills through dust-caked windows and cracks in the log walls. It doesn't show up much. Some shelves, an old counter that may once have held a till, an uneven plank floor; must have been looted a dozen times over. Over in one corner there's a trapdoor.

On the shelves are a Twinkie, a strip of bison jerky, and a Son of Toil bar.

No phone, of course. Not that you were expecting one, at this point.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You take all
response: Twinkie: Taken.
strip of bison jerky: Taken.
Son of Toil bar: Taken.
action: You give the jerky to curb
response: You wave the strip of bison jerky at Curb. His ears prick up, and he abandons the car keys immediately, almost taking your fingers off as he snatches the delicious treat away from you.

Curb attempts to howl, but it devolves into a whimper.
action: You take the keys
response: You steel your courage. Dog slobber is no picnic.

Taken.

Curb attempts to howl, but it devolves into a whimper.
action: Go south
response: A wide porch of wood slats, with the obligatory animal skulls nailed up against the wall. South leads back to the road; north takes you inside.

Just outside the shadowed doorway, a parched corpse slumps in a rocking-chair.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Go south
response: As the highway continues to the east, you can see a rutted dirt path heading off to the north toward what looks like a small farmhouse.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You go to the west
response: You silently head back in the direction of your car.

You silently trudge down the road toward the town, wherever it may be.

This lonely stretch of road seems to continue east toward the horizon. The sides of the road haven't changed much either. It's still flat, dry ground. You can see your car in the distance to the west.

A ways down the road you can make out a solitary billboard.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Go west
response: You trudge back toward your car.

You're standing on a stretch of road by your car. On the sides of the road is nothing but flat, dry ground and nothing to see at all to the horizon. The sign you passed a few miles back said it was about 10 miles to the nearest town, the name of which you've already forgotten. Seeing as it's even farther back to the previous town, the only way to go is forward to the east.

You can see your car and a road sign here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You examine the sign
response: At some juncture of the distant past it may, you surmise, have displayed information of some kind; the original content has been effaced, but it still tells you something; to wit, folks here have ammo to waste and don't mind shooting at trash.
action: Unlock trunk
response: You insert your key in the trunk and it pops open.
action: You look in the trunk
response: In the trunk are a glow-jar and an offering.
action: You take all from the trunk
response: glow-jar: Taken.
offering: Not much you can do with these until you have some form of transport; you sure as hell ain't smoking them.

Curb peers curiously at the panga.
action: You examine offering
response: One thousand packs of filterless Camels, your birthday gift to Aunt Mabel. Hopefully it'll be a sufficient offering for her to confirm you, but that's no sure thing.

Curb snatches up the offering in his mouth and gnaws noisily at it.
action: You play the guitar
response: You play a few notes of some Rick Astley song you can't remember the name of. Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.
action: You play the guitar
response: You play a few notes of some Rick Astley song you can't remember the name of. Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.

Curb starts at nothing, and half falls over in a desperate attempt to escape it.
action: You play the guitar
response: Some of the crazier hill-tribes sell this glowy liquid stuff. It's nasty stuff - you wouldn't want to get it on your skin - but you figure that if it's sealed in a Ball jar you should be just fine. Anyhow, it gives off a decent light that never goes out, which is why you paid fifty smokes for it.

You play a few notes of "Chobits ending theme 2". Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.

Eyes rolling nervously, Curb hunches over and humps thin air.
action: Go east
response: It might be a good idea to close the trunk first.
action: You open the trapdoor
response: You open the trapdoor.

A pale moth flutters out of the cellar. You reflexively make a warding sign - though they don't help much with Curb, so their potency against curses and doom seems to be limited.

Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.
action: You go downwards
response: Holding the glow-jar before you, panga at the ready, you cautiously descend into the cellar.

Plenty of sweat went into digging this cellar out, and it smells like it. Wooden shelves are hammered into the dirt walls, covered in grime. Dirt steps are cut into one wall, leading up to a trap door.

You hear an eager whine, and Curb barrels into the trap-door from above, which just misses your head as it slams shut.
action: Curse
response: Blasphemy!
action: You examine the trapdoor
response: A crude wooden trapdoor bolted into the floor with rustic iron hinges.

A heavy sound suggests Curb might have been walking around, but just sat down again.
action: Describe the surroundings
response: Plenty of sweat went into digging this cellar out, and it smells like it. Wooden shelves are hammered into the dirt walls, covered in grime. Dirt steps are cut into one wall, leading up to a trap door.

It sounds like Curb is gnawing on something above the trapdoor.
action: You examine the shelves
response: Ain't much to one of these shelves. A couple of two-by-fours sunk into the wall, and some one-by-fours set across, and some dirt.

Curb scuffles at the trapdoor, as though trying to dig through it.
action: You search the dirt
response: Which do you mean, the packed dirt, the dirt corner, or the dirt steps?
action: You dig the packed dirt
response: With what, your panga?

Curb howls mournfully. Thank goodness the trapdoor muffles some sound.
action: Yes
response: Well, if you must, you must. It's a tool before all else, it's true. You start hacking away at the dirt.

It's a really crummy tool for this job, though.

After a while, you hear a "thunk", and realize you've hit wood. A little more work, and you realize there's a sort of a cubby down there - a place to stash things where they won't be disturbed. Except by jerks with pangas, of course.
action: You look at the cubby
response: A rough hole has been hacked into the ground here, down to a little cubby made of wood. Tucked into the cubby are a diary, an old bolt, and a piece of paper.
action: You take all
response: diary: Taken.
old bolt: Taken.
piece of paper: Taken.
action: You read the paper
response: An old, brittle, yellowing piece of paper, maybe once a shopping list, written in big, painful capital letters. Some of it has succumbed to time, but what you can read says:

(smudge) RTS CREAM
2 DOSEN EGG
6 HINDGE BOLTS
50# LEAD FOR SHOOTING
HALF DOSEN LEMONS
MEDECENE FO(smudge)MPA

The rest is all a blur.

You hear the familiar sounds of Curb eating his own vomit.
action: You examine diary
response: A worn-out leather diary, written in a crabbed hand. Your letters were never all so good as that, and you wouldn't want to try reading this mess in anything but good light.
action: Describe the surroundings
response: Plenty of sweat went into digging this cellar out, and it smells like it. Wooden shelves are hammered into the dirt walls, covered in grime. Dirt steps are cut into one wall, leading up to a trap door. A rough hole has been dug - or cut, really - into the corner.

Curb howls mournfully. Thank goodness the trapdoor muffles some sound.
action: You examine the shelves
response: Ain't much to one of these shelves. A couple of two-by-fours sunk into the wall, and some one-by-fours set across, and some dirt.
action: You take the shelves
response: That's hardly portable.
action: You look at the bolt
response: You try to open the trapdoor, but it seems to be stuck. Or Curb has set his mangy behind down on it, which seems just about as likely.

It sounds like Curb is gnawing on something above the trapdoor.

(the old bolt)
Actually, it's only part of an old bolt. It's rusty, stained, and the end is broken off, so it's only about an inch long.

Hmm. Bolts needing changed, and this one's broken and rusty. Might be too much to hope for...
action: You look at the door
response: A crude wooden trapdoor bolted into the floor with rustic iron hinges. Now that you look closely, those bolts do look somewhat old and shabby. Certainly no match for, say, your panga.
action: You hit the door
response: You bruise your knuckles on the bolts. Maybe you should find something else to use.

You hear the familiar sounds of Curb eating his own vomit.
action: You hit the bolts with the panga
response: Armed with your newfound knowledge - and your trusty panga - you lay into the trapdoor's bolts. They shatter with a few sharp blows each.

As you are attacking the last bolt, there's a dangerous creaking sound, and suddenly the trapdoor collapses, spilling dust, rust, and your ever-faithful friend, Curb, down onto your head. But at least the trapdoor is open again!

Curb scampers after you.
action: Go upwards
response: Light spills through dust-caked windows and cracks in the log walls. It doesn't show up much. Some shelves, an old counter that may once have held a till, an uneven plank floor; must have been looted a dozen times over. Over in one corner there's a trapdoor.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You read diary
response: A worn-out leather diary, written in a crabbed hand. Your letters were never all so good as that, and it's hard to make out exactly what the owner was writing about, but it looks like he spent some time in Afterbliss.
action: Author
response: Scene 4, "Ghosts", was written by Marius Mueller.
action: You read the diary
response: A worn-out leather diary, written in a crabbed hand. Your letters were never all so good as that, and it's hard to make out exactly what the owner was writing about, but it looks like he spent some time in Under a Tree.

Curb vomits from excitement, his ribcage convulsing. He laps up the result hurriedly, before you steal his prize.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: Light spills through dust-caked windows and cracks in the log walls. It doesn't show up much. Some shelves, an old counter that may once have held a till, an uneven plank floor; must have been looted a dozen times over. Over in one corner there's a trapdoor.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.
action: You check what you're carrying
response: You are carrying:
a piece of paper
an old bolt
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1
action: Examine bar
response: Son of Toil bars contain protein and suchlike for the man with work on his mind. You never had so much work on your mind that you could stand the taste. The packaging is attractively decorated with an image of some Bible feller in a generic act of honest labour.
action: You eat the bar
response: You feel a strong personal disinclination against such a venture. Say what you will. Maybe it's on account of your weak non-toiling constitution or some such.

Curb has apparently grown bored with the offering. If you want it, you'll have to brave a great deal of slobber.
action: You take the offering
response: Not much you can do with these until you have some form of transport; you sure as hell ain't smoking them.
action: You examine offering
response: One thousand packs of filterless Camels, your birthday gift to Aunt Mabel. Hopefully it'll be a sufficient offering for her to confirm you, but that's no sure thing.

It's covered in dog slobber and chew marks.

Curb peers curiously at the panga.
action: You look at Twinkie
response: One of the foulest creations of the Former Age, but they contain calories of some kind and they never rot. You don't blame the looters for leaving it, though.
action: You examine the tattoo
response: Your right arm, left hand and the left side of your face are partially covered with blocky, rounded glyphs precisely specifying your age, blood type, status (social, economic, marital) and affiliations (birth-clan, adopted clan, moiety, college). None of which are going to impress anybody, except for the adopted-clan part, perhaps; Aunt Mabel's reputation extends across the known world. But even so, the conspicuous hollow circles on the backs of both hands mark you as unconfirmed.

Curb gnaws hungrily on his own forepaw.
action: Go south
response: A wide porch of wood slats, with the obligatory animal skulls nailed up against the wall. South leads back to the road; north takes you inside.

Just outside the shadowed doorway, a parched corpse slumps in a rocking-chair.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Go south
response: As the highway continues to the east, you can see a rutted dirt path heading off to the north toward what looks like a small farmhouse.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Go east
response: You walk for a few sandy miles, out into the desert, and night begins to fall, slowly, like a dead parachutist. In the distance, the whispering wind takes on a howl - looks like a sandstorm is on its way. By the time you realize this, however, you've gone to far to go back to your car.

And so, in the depths of nights, with the sandstorm building up its inhuman, demonic power around you, you find yourself on...

The building is in the state you've expected from a ghost town. Its upper floor is completely gone, but the front is still standing, and you can barely make out the words Kissing Bandit Saloon in sun-bleached red paint. One half of a swinging door leads north, inside.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You go north
response: You enter through the swing door, Curb on your heels.

This room is much smaller than what the movies tell you. A stairway leads up to a gallery, though most of the roof and the upper floor is missing. A few chairs and tables gather dust, accompanied by a lone piano in a corner.
A counter is near the back wall.
An impressive chandelier dangles from the remains of the ceiling.

On the counter is an empty pewter mug.

Behind the counter is a shelf lined with a row of casks.

An empty lemon juice bottle lies abandoned by the counter.
action: You play the piano
response: You play some notes from "The Late Goodybe" by Poets of the Fall, but then realize that the piano is one of those automatons. It even features some screechy lyrics. You can make something about a guy called Tom, who was a slinger, but not slinging "a gun". Something about a more lyrical meaning. Thankfully, the record ends soon.

Curb peers curiously at the Son of Toil bar and makes a famished whine.
action: Author
response: Scene 4, "Ghosts", was written by Marius Mueller.
action: You take all
response: shelf: That's fixed in place.
empty glass bottle: Taken.
empty pewter mug: Taken.
action: Examine mug
response: It's empty.
action: You look at the bottle
response: It's a clear glass bottle with a jaunty picture of an anthropomorphized lemon on the label. However, it is bone dry inside.

Curb savagely gnaws at his genitals with slurpy snarls of contentment.
action: Bottle
response: empty pewter mug: You already have that.
empty glass bottle: You already have that.

Curb stares at the rum cask with paranoid fascination.
action: You look at cask
response: Which do you mean, the beer cask, the wine cask, the moonshine cask, the rum cask, the sarsaparilla cask, or the lemonade cask?
action: You look at the moonshine
response: It has "XXXXX" stencilled on the front. Wow, five X's? That must be strong stuff!

Curb peers curiously at the musket barrel.
action: You examine the sarsaparilla
response: You see nothing special about the sarsaparilla cask.

Curb skitters about.
action: You examine the wine
response: It's labelled "House White". There doesn't seem to be a house red. Maybe the patrons of this saloon preferred delicate, subtle flavors.
action: You look at the beer
response: You see nothing special about the beer cask.

Curb chases his tail, squealing frustration.
action: You examine the rum
response: It has the words "RED RUM" scratched crudely into the wood. Funny, the R's are backward. Maybe it's cyrillic and it really says YAED YAUM.

Curb sniffs at the rum cask like the horrible little pervert he is.
action: Drink moonshine
response: (the pewter mug of moonshine)
You slam it back. Ahh, refreshing.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: This room is much smaller than what the movies tell you. A stairway leads up to a gallery, though most of the roof and the upper floor is missing. A few chairs and tables gather dust, accompanied by a lone piano in a corner.
A counter is near the back wall.
An impressive chandelier dangles from the remains of the ceiling.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Behind the counter is a shelf lined with a row of casks.
action: You look at the chandelier
response: An old, cobwebbed chandelier. Looks like some sort of map is stuck in the chandelier.

Curb attempts to howl, but it devolves into a whimper.
action: You take the map
response: You can't reach it up there.

Curb scratches his ear.
action: You get on piano
response: That's not something you can enter.

Curb tries to gnaw on the shelf. You shoo him off before he does too much damage.
action: You throw the barrel at the map
response: (the musket barrel at the treasure map)
Futile.

Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.
action: You throw the barrel at the chandelier
response: (the musket barrel at the chandelier)
You can't quite throw that high.

Curb peers curiously at the Son of Toil bar and makes a famished whine.
action: You stand on Curb
response: That's not something you can stand on.

Curb skitters about.
action: You jump
response: You jump on the spot, fruitlessly.

Curb peers curiously at the car keys.
action: You take Curb
response: He's too heavy to carry about, and you'd get fleas.

Curb peers curiously at the panga.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
an empty pewter mug
an empty glass bottle
a piece of paper
an old bolt
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.
action: You go upwards
response: You've climbed half-way up the stairs. To go any further would be foolishly risking your life.

An old piece of cloth sticks to the floorboards here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You examine the cloth
response: An old piece of blue cloth. Could be ripped out from a pair of jeans or something.

Curb snaps at flies.

Curb eyes the piece of cloth with more than curiosity, something akin to keen interest. He sniffs it expectantly.
action: Show cloth to curb
response: Curb sniffs the shred of cloth. He then holds up his head, and just for a moment, you can see, even in this big, repulsive heap of fat meat and dirty fur, the wolf, scenting the deer.
action: You go curb
response: That's not something you can enter.

Curb goes down.
action: Go down
response: This room is much smaller than what the movies tell you. A stairway leads up to a gallery, though most of the roof and the upper floor is missing. A few chairs and tables gather dust, accompanied by a lone piano in a corner.
A counter is near the back wall.
An impressive chandelier dangles from the remains of the ceiling.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Behind the counter is a shelf lined with a row of casks.

Curb frantically digs a hole in a corner.
action: Wait
response: Time passes.

Curb tries to gnaw on the beer cask. You shoo him off before he does too much damage.
action: You examine the hole
response: A hole, not as artfully dug as what you did in the cellar, but what can you expect from Curb?
In it you can see a skull.

Curb peers curiously at the panga.
action: You take skull
response: Taken.

Curb tries to gnaw on the piano. You shoo him off before he does too much damage.
action: You look at it
response: A human skull. It's wearing an eyepatch that's in surprisingly good condition.

Curb peers curiously at the empty pewter mug.
action: You take the eyepatch
response: You slide the eyepatch off the skull.

Curb scratches at the ground with his forepaws.
action: You look in the skull
response: You find nothing of interest.

Curb peers curiously at the shred of cloth.
action: You put the bolt in the eyepatch
response: The eyepatch won't keep anything in it for long. If you want to sling the old bolt at something, you should just sling the old bolt at it directly.
action: Sling bolt at map
response: Taking good aim, and a few practice swings, you haul your missile at the treasure map- up and up it goes-
Hit!
The treasure map tumbles down. But so does a part of the chandelier, knocking you out. The last thing you hear is Curbs anxious growling. The last thing you feel, unfortunately, is Curbs wet tongue, licking your cheek. Then, thankfully, you pass out.

*** You have knocked yourself out.***

You wake up with a bad headache. Outside, the sun is shining again,
the sandstorm is gone. Curb has rolled up at your side, and for all his faults, you love him for that.
action: You put the bolt in the barrel
response: (the musket barrel)
That can't contain things.
action: You hit the chandelier with the barrel
response: (the musket barrel)
It's high up on the ceiling, out of reach.

Curb sniffs at the counter like the horrible little pervert he is.
action: Sling bolt at map
response: Taking good aim, and a few practice swings, you haul your missile at the treasure map- up and up it goes-
Hit!
The treasure map tumbles down. But so does a part of the chandelier, knocking you out. The last thing you hear is Curbs anxious growling. The last thing you feel, unfortunately, is Curbs wet tongue, licking your cheek. Then, thankfully, you pass out.

*** You have knocked yourself out.***

You wake up with a bad headache. Outside, the sun is shining again,
the sandstorm is gone. Curb has rolled up at your side, and for all his faults, you love him for that.

Curb stares at the lemonade cask with paranoid fascination.
action: You take the map
response: Taken.

Curb sniffs at the chairs. like the horrible little pervert he is.
action: You look at the map
response: Well, it's obviously a treasure map, because it has a big X on it to mark the spot. But it's a pretty strange map: it's completely blank, and has a light iridescent sheen to it, like a photographic plate. Also, it's strangely warm to the touch.
action: You touch the map
response: It's definitely hotter in some spots than others.

Curb vomits from excitement, his ribcage convulsing. He laps up the result hurriedly, before you steal his prize.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying:
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
an empty glass bottle
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Curb snaps at flies.
action: You touch the jar
response: You feel nothing unexpected.

Curb fixes you with a look of abject guilt and keens softly.
action: Author
response: Scene 5, "Invisiclues", was written by Carl Muckenhoupt.
action: You read the Treasure Huntery
response: "For one thing, the maps are often nearly as well-hidden as the treasures themselves. However, that doesn't mean you're left to search aimlessly. The purpose of the map is defeated if no one has access to it, so treasure maps can usually be found among the effects of the treasure-hiders, or in places they frequented. Look in residences, gathering-places, and vehicles."

Curb peers curiously at Treasure Huntery Lesson 1.
action: Keep going
response: "Once you've found your map, the next step is deciphering it. Treasure maps are usually encrypted or obfuscated in some way. Edgar Allan Poe's short story The Gold Bug tells about a map that has instructions written in code... and also in invisible ink!"
action: Continue
response: "Invisible ink is actually surprisingly common in authentic treasure maps -- and one of the main reasons that there are still treasure maps that have gone undetected. The most popular form of invisible ink is ordinary lemon juice, although any weak acid works just as well. When heat is applied to the paper, the parts weakened by the lemon juice discolor more quickly. There are recorded attempts at developing an ink that would work the other way around, but to our knowledge this has never been done successfully."

Curb scratches his ear.
action: You look at the lemonade
response: You see nothing special about the lemonade cask.

Curb attempts to howl, but it devolves into a whimper.
action: You fill the mug with the lemonade
response: The lemonade cask seems to be empty.
action: You look at the lemon
response: It's a clear glass bottle with a jaunty picture of an anthropomorphized lemon on the label. However, it is bone dry inside.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
an empty glass bottle
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Curb peers curiously at the diary.
action: You look at cask
response: Which do you mean, the beer cask, the wine cask, the moonshine cask, the rum cask, the sarsaparilla cask, or the lemonade cask?
action: You fill the mug with the wine
response: The pewter mug is now full of vinegar.

Curb skitters about.
action: You pour the vinegar on the map
response: (the pewter mug of vinegar on the treasure map)
Little wisps of vinegar-scented smoke curl upward as an image appears on the map.
action: You examine the map
response: The map shows an incomprehensible noisy pattern of red and blue pixels with a big black X in the middle.

Curb fixes you with a look of abject guilt and keens softly.
action: You fill the bottle with the rum
response: The glass bottle is now full of rum.

Curb scratches at the ground with his forepaws.
action: You examine the rum
response: (the glass bottle of rum)
The rum is a brilliant red color, but it smells like rum all the same.
action: You look at the map through bottle
response: Aha! When you look through the red rum, you the pattern becomes clear. Instead of a map, all you see is the word "LUXOR".

What the heck? The treasure is in Egypt?

Well, there's nothing for it. If you're going to get that treasure, you'll have to get to Egypt. One plane flight later, some checking with the remainder of the map, and you find your way to a worn-down souk by the Necropolis.

You've followed your treasure map to this dingy little tobacco house on the eastern bank of the Nile. Sleepy old men gather around the hookahs and trade smoke. A cabinet full of curiosities lines the back wall.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Curb scratches at the ground with his forepaws.
action: Author
response: Scene 6, "The One-Armed Time Bandit", was written by Michael Martin.
action: You look at the men
response: The clientele here doesn't seem to be paying attention to much. Even the nicotine isn't keeping them alert.
action: You examine the cabinet
response: In the cabinet are some artifacts.

Curb tries to gnaw on the tables. You shoo him off before he does too much damage.
action: You look at artifacts
response: These are relics and gewgaws from all over the world. One in particular catches your eye - a softwood box with your family crest imprinted on it.

Curb peers curiously at the alligator stetson.
action: Examine box
response: This fine sandalwood box must be some lost heirloom of your family line; it's got your crest on the lid.

Curb peers curiously at the diary.
action: You examine the crest
response: It's the same symbol and motto that has been passed down through your family for generations: An extinguished lantern under the phrase SIC SEMPER RIMORIS.

Curb savagely gnaws at his genitals with slurpy snarls of contentment.
action: You take the box
response: Taken.

Curb peers curiously at the piece of paper.
action: You open the box
response: You open the heirloom box, revealing a decoder ring and a slip of paper.

Curb peers curiously at the panga.
action: You read the slip
response: This old slip of paper has the mysterious message DSAJX YPFC, XUJPER on it.

Curb peers curiously at the Twinkie and makes a famished whine.
action: You examine the ring
response: This decoder ring has a wheel that matches letters to other letters. Surely, with this, the darkest secrets of the cosmos are yours.

[To use the decoder ring, type the command DECODE (text), where (text) is the text you wish to decode.]
action: You wear the ring
response: (first taking the decoder ring)
You put on the decoder ring.

Curb stares at the tables with paranoid fascination.
action: You look at the tables
response: The tables here are stained with years of smoking.

Curb snaps at flies.
action: Xujper
response: Using your mighty ancestral decoder ring, you decode DSAJX YPFC, XUJPER to WRONG CITY, GENIUS.
action: Decode luxor
response: You ponder the map. "LUXOR" alone really isn't much of a clue to finding the treasure on its own. Perhaps if you put your ancestral decoder ring to work, it will produce a new clue. Let's see. "L" maps to "V", "U" to "E"...

You feel a certain sinking feeling as you guess the rest. Yep. "LUXOR" decodes to "VEGAS". You've been searching on the wrong continent all this time. At least you did get that it was in a desert, though.

Time to book another flight.

It's dry as a bone out there, but at least in here the drinks flow freely. The map, suitably reinterpreted to this locale, lead you to this slot machine, right on the X in LUXOR. All around you, blinking, screaming electronics want to take your money, but your steely resolve remains undeterred.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Curb skitters about.
action: You examine the machine
response: This slot machine looks much like the others here; video screens showing results, lots and lots of flashing lights and exciting sounds, and a slot with which you may insert all your money.
action: Play machine
response: You stick a token in the machine and pull the lever. Lemon, Lemon, and... your family crest? This is no ordinary slot machine.

It's no ordinary payout mechanism, either. A chute opens up beneath you, and you slide into darkness.

This is more like it! The chute took you into this awesome command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

You can also see a ladder here.

Curb peers curiously at the alligator stetson.
action: You climb the ladder
response: You're here in front of a slot machine situated right on top of the X in the Luxor's logo. All around you, blinking, screaming electronics want to take your money, but your steely resolve remains undeterred. A dark passage in front of the slot machine leads down.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You look at the slot
response: This slot machine looks much like the others here; video screens showing results, lots and lots of flashing lights and exciting sounds, and a slot with which you may insert all your money.

Curb peers curiously at the decoder ring.
action: Go down
response: This is clearly some kind of command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

You can see a ladder here.

Curb scampers after you. Whether you like it or not.
action: Go north
response: The acoustics in this room look carefully shaped, which is odd, because the centerpiece of this room is in fact a huge brass cannon.

As you enter, a booming voice intones, "STAND BY FOR MIND CONTROL."
action: Test
response: Time passes.

The booming voice continues, "GO SOUTH."

>go south

This is clearly some kind of command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

You can see a ladder here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Go south
response: This room is decorated in the severest of blacks and whites. Everything is dead silent. A passageway leads quietly back up to the north.

An invisible box squats against the south wall.

You can also see a phantom wind machine here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You look at the wind machine
response: This is a small switch, painted in severe black and white. It is labeled "PHANTOM WIND MACHINE". Beneath that, in much smaller letters, is inscribed KUKURQPUVW.

The phantom wind machine is currently switched off.

Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.
action: Decode kukurqpuvw
response: Using your mighty ancestral decoder ring, you decode KUKURQPUVW to MEMESHIELD.

Curb gnaws hungrily on his own forepaw.
action: You turn on MACHINE
response: You switch on the device, and suddenly a powerful wind assaults your face. Oddly, your hair and possessions seem totally unaffected.
action: Go north
response: It's slow going fighting through the imaginary wind that's whipping your face.

This is clearly some kind of command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

You can see a ladder here.

Curb scampers after you. Whether you like it or not.
action: You go west
response: It's slow going fighting through the imaginary wind that's whipping your face.

This room appears to be some sort of shrine to old arcade games. A passage leads back east.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Play
response: What do you want to play?
action: You go to the east
response: It's slow going fighting through the imaginary wind that's whipping your face.

This is clearly some kind of command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

You can see a ladder here.

Curb scampers after you.

The wind abruptly stops.
action: You examine hat
response: (the alligator stetson)
You never seen an alligator, but it's certain they make a fine hat.
action: You take the hat
response: (the alligator stetson)
You already have that.

Curb savagely gnaws at his genitals with slurpy snarls of contentment.
action: You take the mome hat
response: Though you realize that you risk the dreaded Mome Wrath for your defilement, you collect the Mome hat.

Curb sniffs at the Mome statue like the horrible little pervert he is.
action: You wear it
response: You put on the Mome hat.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a Mome hat (being worn)
some gambling tokens
a decoder ring (being worn)
a heirloom box (open)
a slip of paper
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
a glass bottle of rum
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.
action: Pray
response: You mumble a prayer from your childhood:

I see the moon, and the moon sees me.
God bless the moon and God bless me.

It's a pretty selfish prayer, when you think about it. I mean, the moon is covered, but I guess you really don't care about anything or anyone else, do you?

I swear... you belong in Vegas.

Curb peers curiously at the piece of paper.
action: You look at the statue
response: The Mome's hat has been stolen.

Curb peers curiously at Treasure Huntery Lesson 1.
action: About yourself
response: You're tall and thirsty. Too old to be drifting loose, too young to have done anything much to deserve confirmation - your tattoos show that much.

Curb chases his tail, squealing frustration.
action: Kiss statue
response: You can only do that to something animate.
action: You examine the tattoos
response: Your right arm, left hand and the left side of your face are partially covered with blocky, rounded glyphs precisely specifying your age, blood type, status (social, economic, marital) and affiliations (birth-clan, adopted clan, moiety, college). None of which are going to impress anybody, except for the adopted-clan part, perhaps; Aunt Mabel's reputation extends across the known world. But even so, the conspicuous hollow circles on the backs of both hands mark you as unconfirmed.

Curb starts at nothing, and half falls over in a desperate attempt to escape it.
action: You go west
response: This is clearly some kind of command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

You can see a ladder here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You examine MACHINE
response: This is a small switch, painted in severe black and white. It is labeled "PHANTOM WIND MACHINE". Beneath that, in much smaller letters, is inscribed KUKURQPUVW.

The phantom wind machine is currently switched off.

Curb fixes you with a look of abject guilt and keens softly.
action: You turn on MACHINE
response: You switch on the device, and suddenly a powerful wind assaults your face. Oddly, your hair and possessions seem totally unaffected.

Curb vomits from excitement, his ribcage convulsing. He laps up the result hurriedly, before you steal his prize.
action: You go north
response: It's slow going fighting through the imaginary wind that's whipping your face.

This is clearly some kind of command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

You can see a ladder here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You go to the north
response: It's slow going fighting through the imaginary wind that's whipping your face.

The acoustics in this room look carefully shaped, which is odd, because the centerpiece of this room is in fact a huge brass cannon.

A booming voice intones a command at you. The winds surrounding you distort the voice. You think it said "STAND BY FOR MIME CONTRAIL."
action: You examine the cannon
response: You enter the cannon.

The booming voice continues with what sounds like "NOW SHOOT."
action: Shoot cannon
response: The cannon fires, rocketing you through the plate glass window and into the room beyond.

It's not as tidy as it was before you made your grand entrance through the window to the south, but this is still a perfectly functional office. An official-looking door leads west.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You examine the window
response: You see nothing special about the plate glass window, except for the fact that it's been smashed into a hojillion pieces, thus allowing you access to the room beyond.

Curb sniffs at your tattoos like the horrible little pervert he is.
action: You go to the west
response: It's slow going fighting through the imaginary wind that's whipping your face.

You are in a brightly-lit pillared underground chamber, with purple shag carpeting and a group of very generous people. A back office lies to the east, while the west end of the lounge gives off a gentle glow.

You can see Bruce K, Corinne Q, Sammy Z-E, a Cubist shape, a red square, a gray square, a brown square, and a black square here.

Curb scampers after you.

The wind abruptly stops.
action: Author
response: Scene 7, "TBA", was written by N.B. Horvath.
action: You take all
response: Cubist shape: Taken.
red square: Taken.
gray square: Taken.
brown square: Taken.
black square: Taken.
slip of paper: Taken.

Bruce K gifts a small wooden fish to Corinne Q. Corinne Q hands a small wooden woodchuck to Bruce K.

Sammy Z-E transfers a plastic card to Bruce K. Bruce K passes a bolt of cloth to Sammy Z-E.
action: You read slip
response: This old slip of paper has the mysterious message DSAJX YPFC, XUJPER on it.

Bruce K gives a bolt of inspiration to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E presents a small wooden house to Bruce K.

Sammy Z-E forks over a bolt of cloth to Bruce K. Bruce K gives a bolt of cloth to Sammy Z-E.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a slip of paper
a black square
a brown square
a gray square
action: You examine paper
response: a Mome hat (being worn)
some gambling tokens
a decoder ring (being worn)
a heirloom box (open but empty)
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
a glass bottle of rum
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Which do you mean, the slip of paper, or the piece of paper?
action: You give square to Sammy
response: Which do you mean, the black square, the brown square, the gray square, or the red square?
action: You look at the piece
response: Which do you mean, the shred of cloth, or the piece of paper?
action: You examine the piece of paper
response: An old, brittle, yellowing piece of paper, maybe once a shopping list, written in big, painful capital letters. Some of it has succumbed to time, but what you can read says:

(smudge) RTS CREAM
2 DOSEN EGG
6 HINDGE BOLTS
50# LEAD FOR SHOOTING
HALF DOSEN LEMONS
MEDECENE FO(smudge)MPA

The rest is all a blur.
action: Go west
response: This end of the Giving Lounge is bathed in gentle light. A set of (literally) pearly gates stands to the west.

You pause to reflect on this for a moment. The fact that the pearly gates are underground adds that extra touch of Vegas oddness to the scene.

You can see a set of pearly gates and a guardian angel here.

Curb scampers after you.
action: You examine angel
response: Actually he's dressed as a Roman centurion, but you can tell that he's a guardian angel from the "HELLO MY NAME IS" name tag.
action: You go west
response: The angel gently blocks your way. "Sorry my child. You are not enlightened. You do not match. Not yet."
action: You ask the angel about the enlightenment
response: There is no reply.

Curb peers curiously at the panga.
action: You ask the angel about the match
response: There is no reply.

Curb peers curiously at the treasure map.
action: You go east
response: You are in a brightly-lit pillared underground chamber, with purple shag carpeting and a group of very generous people. A back office lies to the east, while the west end of the lounge gives off a gentle glow.

You can see Bruce K, Corinne Q, and Sammy Z-E here.

Curb scampers after you.

Bruce K gifts a small wooden fish to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E transfers a souvenir clock to Bruce K.

Sammy Z-E gifts a small wooden fish to Corinne Q. Corinne Q gifts a bolt of lightning to Sammy Z-E.
action: You give the cubist shape to Sammy
response: You give the Cubist shape to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E donates a bolt of cloth to you.

Corinne Q passes a souvenir anchor to Bruce K. Bruce K gives a souvenir clock to Corinne Q.
action: You give the bolt of the cloth to Corinne
response: You give the bolt of cloth to Corinne Q. Corinne Q gives a plastic sword to you.

Bruce K gifts a plastic shield to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E hands a plastic card to Bruce K.

Sammy Z-E gifts a plastic shield to Bruce K. Bruce K forks over a plastic card to Sammy Z-E.
action: You look at Bruce
response: Bruce K is identified by an extremely generic "HELLO MY NAME IS" name tag. He looks to be in his fifties. He stands a little over 6 feet tall, but he is stooped over slightly. He is wearing golf clothes and out-of-fashion glasses. Bruce K is carrying a plastic shield, a souvenir anchor, a souvenir basketball, and a bolt of inspiration.

Corinne Q passes a souvenir clock to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E forks over a souvenir clock to Corinne Q.
action: You examine Sammy
response: Sammy Z-E is identified by an extremely generic "HELLO MY NAME IS" name tag. He is probably in his early twenties but looks ten years younger than that. Sammy Z-E is carrying a plastic card, a Cubist shape, a bolt of lightning, and a small wooden woodchuck.

Bruce K transfers a souvenir basketball to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E gives a small wooden woodchuck to Bruce K.

Corinne Q gives a small wooden house to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E presents a souvenir basketball to Corinne Q.
action: You hit Corinne
response: Violence isn't the answer to this one.

Corinne Q gives a bolt of cloth to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E transfers a plastic card to Corinne Q.
action: You look at Corinne
response: Corinne Q is identified by an extremely generic "HELLO MY NAME IS" name tag. She is thirtysomething, stylish and attractive but a little nervous-looking. Corinne Q is carrying a plastic card, a souvenir basketball, a souvenir clock, and a small wooden fish.
action: You examine square
response: Which do you mean, the black square, the brown square, the gray square, or the red square?
action: You look at the bolt
response: Which do you mean, the bolt of inspiration, the bolt of cloth, or the bolt of lightning?
action: You look at wooden
response: Which do you mean, the small wooden woodchuck, the small wooden fish, or the small wooden house?
action: You examine the souvenir
response: Which do you mean, the souvenir anchor, the souvenir basketball, or the souvenir clock?
action: You examine the black square
response: This looks like another MOMA projectile.

Corinne Q gives a souvenir clock to Bruce K. Bruce K gifts a souvenir anchor to Corinne Q.
action: You examine the brown square
response: This looks like another MOMA projectile.

Corinne Q hands a small wooden fish to Bruce K. Bruce K gives a small wooden fish to Corinne Q.
action: You give the black square to Bruce
response: You give the black square to Bruce K. Bruce K gives a plastic shield to you.
action: You look at what you're carrying with you
response: You are carrying:
a plastic shield
a plastic sword
a slip of paper
a brown square
a gray square
a red square
a Mome hat (being worn)
some gambling tokens
a decoder ring (being worn)
a heirloom box (open but empty)
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
a glass bottle of rum
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1

Corinne Q passes a souvenir basketball to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E presents a bolt of lightning to Corinne Q.
action: You look at Corinne
response: Corinne Q is identified by an extremely generic "HELLO MY NAME IS" name tag. She is thirtysomething, stylish and attractive but a little nervous-looking. Corinne Q is carrying a bolt of lightning, a small wooden fish, a souvenir anchor, and a plastic card.

Bruce K forks over a souvenir clock to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E donates a Cubist shape to Bruce K.
action: You give the brown square to Corinne
response: You give the brown square to Corinne Q. Corinne Q gives a brown square to you.

Bruce K hands a bolt of inspiration to Corinne Q. Corinne Q gives a small wooden fish to Bruce K.
action: You give the brown square to Corinne
response: You give the brown square to Corinne Q. Corinne Q forks over a plastic card to you.

You glow with enlightenment.
action: Go west
response: This end of the Giving Lounge is bathed in gentle light. A set of (literally) pearly gates stands to the west.

You pause to reflect on this for a moment. The fact that the pearly gates are underground adds that extra touch of Vegas oddness to the scene.

You can see a set of pearly gates and a guardian angel here.

Curb scampers after you.

You glow with enlightenment.
action: You go to the west
response: The angel opens the gates with a smile, and you pass beyond. Could the treasure you seek lie beyond?

The underground Las Vegas version of Heaven is as big as a major city railway terminal and brilliantly lit, with a high vault ceiling painted sky blue. Vapory, cottoney off-white structures flit about the room, blown by a pleasant breeze from discreetly placed and deeply muffled fans. It's all spectacularly fake, of course, but with superb production values.

You can see a set of pearly gates and a heart-shaped bed here.

And, more to the point, there's someone on the bed.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Author
response: Scene 8, "Heaven is Heart-Shaped Bed", was written by Jacqueline A Lott.
action: You look at someone
response: The woman on the bed is nothing short of a goddess. And it's not just the tacky Vegas version of Heaven that's making you think that way.
action: You examine the bed
response: The, um, goddess is lying down on a heart-shaped bed. Maybe it's more of a couch. It doesn't seem to have any sheets or anything... it seems to be upholstered in white fur. Looks soft, though.

The couch, I mean.

Well, the goddess too.

I mean, she's not fat or anything. Just soft. You know, her skin.

Curb peers curiously at the empty pewter mug.
action: Hi
response: There is no reply.

Curb vomits from excitement, his ribcage convulsing. He laps up the result hurriedly, before you steal his prize.
action: You ask the goddess about the goddess
response: She just smiles at you seductively.

Curb scratches his ear.
action: You ask the goddess about the Treasure
response: She giggles a little, but doesn't say a word.

Curb peers curiously at the red square.
action: You ask the goddess about the Vegas
response: She raises an eyebrow, but remains silent.
action: You look under the bed
response: You find nothing of interest.

Curb peers curiously at the musket barrel.
action: You ask the goddess about Curb
response: She giggles a little, but doesn't say a word.

Curb scratches his ear.
action: You give the tokens to Goddess
response: The Goddess doesn't seem interested.

Curb skitters about.
action: You enter the bed
response: You advance toward her, but she shakes her head. "I don't think so, lover. I'm not quite that easy... I'm a goddess, after all."

Curb scratches at the ground with his forepaws.
action: Kiss Goddess
response: You walk toward her, but she raises a hand to stop you. "Sorry, my darling. I'm not quite that easy... I'm a goddess, after all."
action: Pray
response: You prostrate yourself before the goddess.

She lowers her gaze. "Welcome to Heaven, you fiendish thing. Come here, lover."

Curb chases his tail, squealing frustration.
action: You enter the bed
response: You walk toward her, and she welcomes you with open arms. She smiles as you climb up into the big, white, furry couch.

Just one kiss, and the world seems to dissolve around you...
action: You kiss her
response: Oh, now you've done it. Or at least, you presume that you've done it, since you don't really remember anything after that first kiss. You're all alone on your conjugal couch.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

You can't see "her" (the Goddess) at the moment.
action: You look around
response: Oh, now you've done it. Or at least, you presume that you've done it, since you don't really remember anything after that first kiss. You're all alone on your conjugal couch.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Curb writhes about on his back, kicking his hind legs.
action: Author
response: Scene 9, "Hell Hath No Fury", was written by Brian Rapp.
action: You stand
response: The floor opens up beneath you, and you fall for an exceedingly great distance...

Cut off from everything good in the universe, your sensations are limited to pain, frustration, and ennui. You are immersed in an endless sea of fire, which certainly doesn't help matters.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

You can also see a devil, a helicopter, and a red gear here.
action: You examine gear
response: You see nothing special about the red gear.

Goodness gracious me. What sort of thing just appeared in your hands? Some sort of box?
action: You examine the devil
response: The banality of evil is personified by this loathsome fellow, who doesn't project fear so much as an intense longing to be anywhere other than in his presence.

The devil looks in your direction and says "Cerberus! Where have you been?" He then seizes Curb by the neck and drags him away, continuing to abuse the animal for abandoning his duty. You are unable to care about this turn of events, but notice that the devil has lost his helmet during the struggle.
action: Gear
response: helmet: The imp on your left shoulder warns you: "Thou shalt not steal." On your right shoulder, G. K. Chesterton replies: "Thieves respect property. They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it." You hadn't noticed either of these apparitions before this moment, but find yourself leaning in the direction of the latter. You pick up the horned helmet. red gear: Taken.
action: You examine the helicopter
response: This helicopter is a magical shade of black that casts neither reflections nor shadows. It is almost entirely featureless, inside and out.
action: Wear helmet
response: It suddenly becomes difficult to think.
action: You think
response: Unbearably hellish music overwhelms your thoughts. You struggle mightily to think about something else.
action: You remove the helmet
response: You take off the helmet.
action: You describe your surroundings
response: Cut off from everything good in the universe, your sensations are limited to pain, frustration, and ennui. You are immersed in an endless sea of fire, which certainly doesn't help matters.

You can see a helicopter here.
action: You enter the helicopter
response: You get into the helicopter.
action: Pray
response: You mumble a prayer from your childhood:

I see the moon, and the moon sees me.
God bless the moon and God bless me.

It's a pretty selfish prayer, when you think about it. I mean, the moon is covered, but I guess you really don't care about anything or anyone else, do you?

I swear... you belong in Vegas.
action: You examine the helicopter
response: You search in vain for any kind of control mechanism.
action: You think
response: The helicopter hovers amidst the flames and describes a very slow spiral in the air, as if it were searching for something.
action: You think about Curb
response: That won't do. You want to be thinking of something smaller, something you can take with you wherever you may go.
action: You think about the hope
response: Your thoughts instead turn to feelings of loss... Poignant loss... Loss of something tangible and true.
action: You think about the loss
response: Yes, loss... You've lost something of value, and you need to think on it more fully.
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a red gear
a G. K. Chesterton on your right shoulder
an imp on your left shoulder
a helmet (being worn)
a Nox box (closed)
an accordion
a plastic card
a plastic shield
a plastic sword
a slip of paper
a gray square
a red square
a Mome hat (being worn)
some gambling tokens
a decoder ring (being worn)
a heirloom box (open but empty)
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
a glass bottle of rum
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1
action: You examine the imp
response: As if suddenly embarrassed by your attention, both figments disappear without a sound. You straighten your shoulders with a certain sense of relief, and appreciate the opportunity to do so.
action: Look around
response: Hell (in the helicopter)
Cut off from everything good in the universe, your sensations are limited to pain, frustration, and ennui. You are immersed in an endless sea of fire, which certainly doesn't help matters.
action: You look at Nox Box
response: The box is square, solid black, and inlaid with strands of silver that makes an unusual and almost hypnotic pattern on all six sides. It's just about the size of the old Christmas presents you used to shake as a kid to guess their contents.

The Nox Box makes a slight humming noise.
action: You put gear in Box
response: (the Nox box)
The Nox box is closed.
action: You open Nox Box
response: You open the Nox box, revealing a gear slot.
action: You put the gear in it
response: (the red gear in the Nox box)
You put the red gear into the gear slot.
action: Author
response: Scene 9, "Hell Hath No Fury", was written by Brian Rapp.
action: Shake box
response: (the Nox box)
An alarming rattling sound comes from within the gear slot.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a helmet (being worn)
a Nox box (open)
a gear slot
a red gear
an accordion
a plastic card
a plastic shield
a plastic sword
a slip of paper
a gray square
a red square
a Mome hat (being worn)
some gambling tokens
a decoder ring (being worn)
a heirloom box (open but empty)
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
a glass bottle of rum
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1
action: Close Box
response: (the Nox box)
You close the Nox box.
action: Examine box
response: (the Nox box)
The box is square, solid black, and inlaid with strands of silver that makes an unusual and almost hypnotic pattern on all six sides. It's just about the size of the old Christmas presents you used to shake as a kid to guess their contents.

The Nox Box makes a slight humming noise.
action: Shake box
response: (the Nox box)
As the box shakes, you get a vague impression of a house.
action: You look at the pattern
response: The pattern, although still confusingly complex, gives you the vague impression of a house.
action: Inventory
response: You are carrying:
a helmet (being worn)
a Nox box (closed)
an accordion
a plastic card
a plastic shield
a plastic sword
a slip of paper
a gray square
a red square
a Mome hat (being worn)
some gambling tokens
a decoder ring (being worn)
a heirloom box (open but empty)
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
a glass bottle of rum
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1
action: You look at the accordion
response: Black as night, black as coal. You wouldn't mind at all the prospect of seeing it blotted out.
action: You play it
response: Your rendition of "Chariots of Fire" is far more depressing than it has any right to be.
action: You think about the guitar
response: The helicopter whirs with newfound energy, and whisks you away at what can only be described as the speed of thought. Flames and darkness and loss all evaporate in a hurricane of recovered emotion...

A nothingness full of whiteness surrounds you. The only way out is not to leave. Disconcertingly, one of your possessions is making a faint buzzing sound.

You can see your guitar here.
action: You play the guitar
response: (first taking the guitar)
You play a few notes of "Greensleeves." Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.
action: Examine box
response: The box is square, solid black, and inlaid with strands of silver that makes an unusual and almost hypnotic pattern on all six sides. It's just about the size of the old Christmas presents you used to shake as a kid to guess their contents.

The Nox Box makes a noticable buzzing sound.

Scene 10, "Endgame", was written by Mark J Musante.

(the Nox box)
The box is square, solid black, and inlaid with strands of silver that makes an unusual and almost hypnotic pattern on all six sides. It's just about the size of the old Christmas presents you used to shake as a kid to guess their contents.

The Nox Box makes a noticable buzzing sound.
action: You look at the pattern
response: The pattern, although still confusingly complex, gives you the vague impression of a house.
action: Shake nox
response: As the box shakes, you get a vague impression of a house.
action: Look around
response: A nothingness full of whiteness surrounds you. The only way out is not to leave. Disconcertingly, one of your possessions is making a faint buzzing sound.
action: You touch Box
response: (the Nox box)
You feel nothing unexpected.
action: Examine box
response: (the Nox box)
The box is square, solid black, and inlaid with strands of silver that makes an unusual and almost hypnotic pattern on all six sides. It's just about the size of the old Christmas presents you used to shake as a kid to guess their contents.

The Nox Box makes a noticable buzzing sound.
action: You open Box
response: (the Nox box)
You open the Nox box, revealing a gear slot.
action: You look in the slot
response: In the gear slot is a red gear.
action: Close Box
response: (the Nox box)
You close the Nox box.
action: You examine the guitar
response: Your faithful rosewood six-string.
action: Wear helmet
response: It suddenly becomes difficult to think.
action: You think about the guitar
response: Unbearably hellish music overwhelms your thoughts. You struggle mightily to think about something else.
action: You play guitar
response: You play a few notes of "Chobits ending theme 2". Contrary to IF convention, you actually play quite well.
action: You search the guitar
response: The guitar is empty.
action: Touch pattern
response: A snap of static jumps from the pattern to your fingers, and the world collapses around you!

This would be pitch-black if it weren't for your glow-jar and a bit of light coming in via the window. A rickety staircase leads upwards.

You can see a cupboard (closed) here.

The Nox Box seems to have vanished from your possessions.
action: You open the cupboard
response: You open the cupboard, revealing a yellow gear and a blue gear.
action: You take the gears
response: yellow gear: Taken.
blue gear: Taken.
action: You go upward
response: With a blink and a flash, you're suddenly somewhere a bit more familiar...

You're here in front of a slot machine situated right on top of the X in the Luxor's logo. All around you, blinking, screaming electronics want to take your money, but your steely resolve remains undeterred. A dark passage in front of the slot machine leads down.

Your possessions shift slightly. The Nox Box seems to have returned.
action: You get Box
response: (the Nox box)
You already have that.
action: You open Nox
response: You open the Nox box, revealing a gear slot.
action: You put the yellow gear in Nox
response: You put the yellow gear into the gear slot.
action: You put the blue gear in Nox
response: You put the blue gear into the gear slot.
action: Close nox
response: You close the Nox box.
action: Shake nox
response: As the box shakes, you get a vague impression of a field.
action: Touch pattern
response: A snap of static jumps from the pattern to your fingers, and the world collapses around you!

A wide open field with a blue sky above. Far off in the distance, towards the setting sun, you can see a large, lone tree. Closer by, like nearly on top of you, is an enormous trebuchet.

You can see an orange gear here.

The Nox Box has vanished again.
action: You take the orange gear
response: Taken.
action: You examine the Tree
response: Far off in the distance, you can just make out a tree poking up over the tall grass.
action: You look at trebuchet
response: The enormity of this enormous trebuchet is enor... is staggering. The wheels themselves are easily forty feet in diameter, if not more. The top reaches too high to even estimate. The rope is thicker than a tree trunk. A really thick tree trunk. The sling is currently empty, and an amusingly small lever built into the side looks like it'll set it off.

Far overhead, you hear the buzzing of a plane.
action: You examine the plane
response: You can definitely hear it, but you can't quite see it.

The buzzing becomes louder.
action: Wait
response: Time passes.

The plane is almost directly overhead.
action: You wait awhile
response: Time passes.

The plane continues on its way across the sky.
action: You examine the rope
response: The enormity of this enormous trebuchet is enor... is staggering. The wheels themselves are easily forty feet in diameter, if not more. The top reaches too high to even estimate. The rope is thicker than a tree trunk. A really thick tree trunk. The sling is currently empty, and an amusingly small lever built into the side looks like it'll set it off.

The buzzing becomes very faint as the plane flies out of view.
action: Go north
response: With a blink and a flash, you're suddenly somewhere a bit more familiar...

A wide porch of wood slats, with the obligatory animal skulls nailed up against the wall. South leads back to the road; north takes you inside.

Just outside the shadowed doorway, a parched corpse slumps in a rocking-chair.

Your possessions shift slightly. The Nox Box seems to have returned.
action: You open Nox
response: You open the Nox box, revealing a gear slot.
action: You put the orange gear in the slot
response: You put the orange gear into the gear slot.
action: Close Box
response: (the Nox box)
You close the Nox box.
action: Shake nox
response: As the box shakes, you get a vague impression of a tree.
action: Touch pattern
response: A snap of static jumps from the pattern to your fingers, and the world collapses around you!

A tree stands majestically in the middle of a great open field. The sun, just rising over the horizon, makes the tree's shadow stretch off over the grass into the distance. The field continues in all directions.

The Nox Box has vanished again.
action: You look at the Tree
response: You're not exactly sure what kind of tree this is as you're not a botanist. However, it is tall and sturdy and makes a nice amount of shade, and high up in the branches you can just make out a gear of some hue or other.
action: You climb the Tree
response: With a blink and a flash, you're suddenly somewhere a bit more familiar...

You've climbed half-way up the stairs. To go any further would be foolishly risking your life.

Your possessions shift slightly. The Nox Box seems to have returned.
action: You examine Nox
response: The box is square, solid black, and inlaid with strands of silver that makes an unusual and almost hypnotic pattern on all six sides. It's just about the size of the old Christmas presents you used to shake as a kid to guess their contents.

The Nox Box makes a noticable buzzing sound.
action: You examine the pattern
response: The pattern, although still confusingly complex, gives you the vague impression of a tree.
action: Shake nox
response: As the box shakes, you get a vague impression of an enclosed space.
action: Touch pattern
response: A snap of static jumps from the pattern to your fingers, and the world collapses around you!

Hunched over in a cramped, lurching, noisy cabin makes your back hurt and endangers your hearing. Wires and cables are strung neatly nearly everywhere, and pipes prove useful when you need to grab onto something. A hatch in the ceiling leads to the deck above you, and a door is set into the hull of the plane.

You can see a hull door, a hatch, and a giant silver sphere here.

The Nox Box has vanished again.
action: You examine the sphere
response: Although the sphere appears to be silver, you can't be certain exactly what metal it's made of. The surface of it dances and swirls before your eyes, and when you lean close to it, your reflection distorts amusingly. At least, you assume your nose isn't that big.
action: Author
response: Scene 10, "Endgame", was written by Mark J Musante.
action: You open hatch
response: You open the hatch.
action: Go upward
response: With a blink and a flash, you're suddenly somewhere a bit more familiar...

This is clearly some kind of command center. An important-looking door leads off to the north, while more unassuming ones lead in all other cardinal directions. Surely some hint to the treasure must be in this secret complex.

You can see a ladder here.

Your possessions shift slightly. The Nox Box seems to have returned.
action: You open the hull door
response: You open the hull door.
action: You enter the hull door
response: You leap to your death. And your death takes a while to hit you, mostly because it comes in the form of the ground, which was far far below the plane.
action: You open hatch
response: That's already open.
action: You go upwards
response: With a blink and a flash, you're suddenly somewhere a bit more familiar...

The building is in the state you've expected from a ghost town. Its upper floor is completely gone, but the front is still standing, and you can barely make out the words Kissing Bandit Saloon in sun-bleached red paint. One half of a swinging door leads north, inside.

Your possessions shift slightly. The Nox Box seems to have returned.
action: Touch pattern
response: A snap of static jumps from the pattern to your fingers, and the world collapses around you!

A wide open field with a blue sky above. Far off in the distance, towards the setting sun, you can see a large, lone tree. Closer by, like nearly on top of you, is an enormous trebuchet.

The Nox Box has vanished again.
action: You examine the trebuchet
response: The enormity of this enormous trebuchet is enor... is staggering. The wheels themselves are easily forty feet in diameter, if not more. The top reaches too high to even estimate. The rope is thicker than a tree trunk. A really thick tree trunk. The sling is currently empty, and an amusingly small lever built into the side looks like it'll set it off.
action: You wait awhile
response: Time passes.
action: You wait awhile
response: Time passes.

Far overhead, you hear the buzzing of a plane.
action: You wait for a while
response: Time passes.

The buzzing becomes louder.
action: You wait a while
response: Time passes.

The plane is almost directly overhead.
A glint of light shines briefly below the plane. You squint but can't make it out.
action: Wait
response: Time passes.

The plane continues on its way across the sky.
The glint of light becomes brighter, and a rushing, crackly, whooshing sound is coming from it.
action: Wait
response: Time passes.

The buzzing becomes very faint as the plane flies out of view.
The glint of light rushes towards the ground at a fantastic rate. It thuds into the earth, throwing up rocks and dirt in an amazing display. Still more amazingly, it bounces up into the air and with a neat "plop", lands gently onto the trebuchet.
action: You pull the lever
response: Slowly at first, and then with increasing speed, the trebuchet pulls the loaded sling underneath and then the sling swings free. It flies far out into the distance and curves upwards in an arc that seems slow only because of the distance involved. At the top of the swing, almost up into the clouds, you see a flash of light as the sphere is thrown clear of the sling. It flies high into the air and you wait and wait as it comes down almost at the horizon. And right into the large lone tree in the distance. The tree shudders once and is still.
action: Go north
response: With a blink and a flash, you're suddenly somewhere a bit more familiar...

This room is much smaller than what the movies tell you. A stairway leads up to a gallery, though most of the roof and the upper floor is missing. A few chairs and tables gather dust, accompanied by a lone piano in a corner.
A counter is near the back wall.
An impressive chandelier dangles from the remains of the ceiling.

Curb has dug a hole into the ground here.

Behind the counter is a shelf lined with a row of casks.

Your possessions shift slightly. The Nox Box seems to have returned.
action: Shake nox
response: As the box shakes, you get a vague impression of a tree.
action: Touch pattern
response: A snap of static jumps from the pattern to your fingers, and the world collapses around you!

A tree stands majestically in the middle of a great open field. The sun, just rising over the horizon, makes the tree's shadow stretch off over the grass into the distance. The field continues in all directions.

You can see a giant silver sphere and an indigo gear here.

The Nox Box has vanished again.
action: You take the indigo
response: Taken.
action: You examine the sphere
response: Although the sphere appears to be silver, you can't be certain exactly what metal it's made of. The surface of it dances and swirls before your eyes, and when you lean close to it, your reflection distorts amusingly. At least, you assume your nose isn't that big. Despite the fact that it took quite a journey since you saw it last, it appears completely unharmed, with not a scratch to be seen.
action: You examine the Tree
response: You're not exactly sure what kind of tree this is as you're not a botanist. However, it is tall and sturdy and makes a nice amount of shade, although many of the branches are splintered and broken.
action: You go north
response: With a blink and a flash, you're suddenly somewhere a bit more familiar...

This end of the Giving Lounge is bathed in gentle light. A set of (literally) pearly gates stands to the west.

You pause to reflect on this for a moment. The fact that the pearly gates are underground adds that extra touch of Vegas oddness to the scene.

You can see a set of pearly gates and a guardian angel here.

Your possessions shift slightly. The Nox Box seems to have returned.
action: You put the indigo in Nox
response: You put the indigo gear into the gear slot.
action: Close nox
response: You close the Nox box.
action: Continue
response: As the box shakes, you get a vague impression of a beach.
action: Touch pattern
response: A snap of static jumps from the pattern to your fingers, and the world collapses around you!

A picturesque beach at sunset. Clich?, but extremely pleasant. The sun glints over the waters as the waves crash gently on the shore. The beach is secluded, with cliffs all around you. At last, you can relax. It seems like forever ago when you started in By Your Car and your odd and surreal journey began. But now it's over, and you've found a place to rest. All it needs is a bit of music to be complete.

The Nox Box has vanished again.
action: You play the guitar
response: You sit down in a comfortable spot, expertly tune your guitar, and play music to match the peaceful beauty of your surroundings. Your fingers fly over the guitar strings with the effortless ease of one who has mastered the instrument, and you close your eyes, breathing a sigh of completion.
action: 3
response: Enter saved game to load: Restore failed.

Would you like to RESTART, RESTORE a saved game, or QUIT?
action: You look at your surroundings
response: You are in a brightly-lit pillared underground chamber, with purple shag carpeting and a group of very generous people. A back office lies to the east, while the west end of the lounge gives off a gentle glow.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

You can also see Bruce K, Corinne Q, and Sammy Z-E here.

Corinne Q passes a brown square to Sammy Z-E. Sammy Z-E gifts a small wooden house to Corinne Q.

You glow with enlightenment.
action: Go west
response: This end of the Giving Lounge is bathed in gentle light. A set of (literally) pearly gates stands to the west.

You pause to reflect on this for a moment. The fact that the pearly gates are underground adds that extra touch of Vegas oddness to the scene.

You can see a set of pearly gates and a guardian angel here.

Curb scampers after you.

You glow with enlightenment.
action: You go to the west
response: The angel opens the gates with a smile, and you pass beyond. Could the treasure you seek lie beyond?

The underground Las Vegas version of Heaven is as big as a major city railway terminal and brilliantly lit, with a high vault ceiling painted sky blue. Vapory, cottoney off-white structures flit about the room, blown by a pleasant breeze from discreetly placed and deeply muffled fans. It's all spectacularly fake, of course, but with superb production values.

You can see a set of pearly gates and a heart-shaped bed here.

And, more to the point, there's someone on the bed.

Curb scampers after you.
action: Blaspheme
response: "What do you think you are?" you ask. "Some kind of hot and holy little sex muffin? I'll have you know that I possess strong moral fiber, and will not succumb to your feminine wiles!"

Her eyes open wide and fill with rage. "Oh, you won't, will you?"

You catch a brief glimpse of her cleavage. "Um..." Must. Look. In. Her. Eyes... "No. No, I won't!"

"You're perfectly sure?" She crawls toward you a little bit more. "Absolutely certain?"

Gosh, I dunno. Are you sure?
action: No
response: You give it some thought. Real thought, this time, not just impulse...

And you realize that maybe the Vegas lifestyle isn't so bad. Not really.

Looks like it might be fun, actually, to climb up onto the fuzzy white bed and...

...and what? Gosh. You're not sure. You think about that, too...

And you decide that you'll do pretty much whatever she wants you to do. "What the hell?" you say. "Why not?" She smiles as you climb up into the big, white, furry couch and snuggle up beside her.

Just one kiss, and the world seems to dissolve around you...

Oh, now you've done it. Or at least, you presume that you've done it, since you don't really remember anything after that first kiss. You're all alone on your conjugal couch.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Curb peers curiously at the Twinkie and makes a famished whine.
action: Yes
response: You gather all of your strength and cry out, "YES!"

"Hm. Very well, then. Goodbye!" And with that, the floor opens up beneath you, and you faaaallll...

Cut off from everything good in the universe, your sensations are limited to pain, frustration, and ennui. You are immersed in an endless sea of fire, which certainly doesn't help matters.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

You can also see a devil, a helicopter, and a red gear here.

Curb chases his tail, squealing frustration.
action: Pet Goddess
response: You stride toward her, but she shakes her head. "I'm afraid not, my darling. I'm not quite that easy... I'm a goddess, after all."
action: No
response: You give it some thought. Real thought, this time, not just impulse...

And you realize that maybe the Vegas lifestyle isn't so bad. Not really.

Looks like it might be fun, actually, to climb up onto the fuzzy white bed and...

...and what? Gosh. You're not sure. You think about that, too...

And you decide that you'll do pretty much whatever she wants you to do. "What the hell?" you say. "Why not?" She smiles as you climb up into the big, white, furry couch and snuggle up beside her.

Just one kiss, and the world seems to dissolve around you...

Oh, now you've done it. Or at least, you presume that you've done it, since you don't really remember anything after that first kiss. You're all alone on your conjugal couch.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Curb peers curiously at the panga.
action: You give the hat to Goddess
response: Which do you mean, the Mome hat, or the alligator stetson?
action: You check your inventory
response: You are carrying:
a plastic card
a plastic shield
a plastic sword
a slip of paper
a gray square
a red square
a Mome hat (being worn)
some gambling tokens
a decoder ring (being worn)
a heirloom box (open but empty)
a treasure map
an eyepatch
a skull
a shred of cloth
an empty pewter mug
a glass bottle of rum
a piece of paper
a diary
a glow-jar (providing light)
your car keys (disgusting)
a Son of Toil bar
a Twinkie
a musket barrel
your guitar
an alligator stetson (being worn)
your panga
Treasure Huntery Lesson 1
action: You look around
response: Oh, now you've done it. Or at least, you presume that you've done it, since you don't really remember anything after that first kiss. You're all alone on your conjugal couch.

Curb detracts from the scenic value of the vicinity.

Curb skitters about.